Some Rules are Meant to be Broken
by gammara
Summary: SR6: Part two now up. Very sad (still).
1. Default Chapter

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Stories: Neat (G - PG13) | With a Twist (R)   
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Some Rules are Meant to be Broken, Part 1 

Some Rules are Meant to be Broken: one | two | three | four 

Chapter One 

Archer checked his reflection in the mirror. He removed the tissue paper from his left cheek and neck. He smiled – the small cuts he gave himself shaving were healed. Yes, he used a razor occasionally; it was old fashioned of him, but enabled him to get a closer shave. He'd picked up this habit after a survival test five years ago and liked a little closer shave, especially since he was the kind of guy who had a five o'clock shadow at about three thirty.

He put on his uniform, patted Porthos on the head. He was walking down the hall when he saw Mayweather leave his cabin. Archer stopped. 

'Those aren't Travis' quarters,' Archer thought.

Mayweather looked up at Archer and stiffened. "Good morning, sir."

Archer walked up to him. "Good morning, Ensign." He looked over his helmsman and noticed something peculiar -- Travis was wearing a shirt buttoned incorrectly, as if it had been put on in haste.

For some unknown reason, he wanted to determine whether this was a mistake. "Sleep well last night?" asked the captain.

Travis wasn't sure if Archer knew whether this was his cabin or not. And if he did, Mayweather reasoned, it wasn't out of the question he could be visiting a friend … even at this early hour.

Travis answered the captain's question, "Yes, I did, sir."

Suddenly the cabin door opened and a young red head with bright green eyes popped her head out the door. "Trav, you forgot…." She looked up at the captain.

"Hello, Ensign Fairbanks," said Archer. He noticed she had a robe on and her hair was disheveled. 

She froze. "Hello, sir." 

Archer took a deep breath. Fraternizing was definitely against regulations. He wasn't certain they were romantically involved, but … no, he knew they were romantically involved.

Travis began to say something, when Archer cut him off. "I don't need to hear an explanation about this right now." He turned to Travis. "But, you may want to check how you've buttoned your shirt, Travis."

He walked down the hall toward breakfast.

Travis and Susan Fairbanks looked at each other nervously. Travis hung his head and entered her cabin, muttering to himself.

Chapter Two 

Archer walked into the mess hall and directly into the dining room. 

"Hiya, Cap'n," said Trip.

"Good morning, Captain," said T'Pol. 

"Hello," he replied. He put his napkin in his lap. Archer poured himself some orange juice from the carafe. "I'd like to have your input on something."

"Of course," said T'Pol.

"You bet," said Trip.

"I believe two crewmen are engaged in a romantic relationship," said Archer. "I know fraternization is against protocols, but we've been out here for a couple of years … it seems only natural that crewmen will … get together." He paused. "I'm also not naïve enough to think they are the only two crew members involved on this ship."

Trip sighed, "Hell, I never thought the 'no fraternization' rule made sense. And every unit I've been with had a couple of some sort gettin' together."

T'Pol explained, "I think the reason why the fraternization rule was created is two-fold: discourage interference with crew members' duties and to ensure that romantic relationships did not influence decisions, including undue promotions."

"Ah, so you're saying that for example Jon wouldn't be able to make a good command decision if he was involved with a member of his crew?" asked Trip.

Archer narrowed his eyes. "I don't think you have to worry about that."

T'Pol nodded to Trip. "Essentially that is correct. Although, Captain, I agree with your analysis. It seems difficult for humans to deny certain … biological necessities."

Trip laughed. "Biological necessities?"

T'Pol squarely looked at him. "I would think you of all people aboard this vessel, Commander Tucker, would say these urges were necessary."

Trip's mouth hung open. Archer grimaced and turned to his first officer. "I'm surprised to hear you are in favor of romantic inclinations between people aboard this vessel, T'Pol." 

"Why?" she asked.

"It's just … unexpected. I would think as Vulcan you would find it illogical," Archer responded.

"On the contrary, Vulcans consider this an imperative need," she said. Archer and Trip sat in stunned silence. She continued before either could question her further. "It seems the answer is obvious – allow them to continue their relationship, unless it becomes a performance issue for either crewmen."

Archer smiled. "Glad we're in agreement." Jon decided not to ask about the imperative need.

T'Pol queried, "I assume this also applies to officers?"

Archer raised his eyebrows in response. 

"Biological necessities apply to all of the crew, including officers," she indicated.

Archer confessed, "I hadn't thought about it."

"I would caution you to consider it. It is logical to assume it could happen," said T'Pol. "Officers are bound to the same forces of nature, per se."

Archer nodded. "Maybe we should take those relationships on a case-by-case basis. Certainly officers shouldn't become involved with those who report to them directly or even indirectly. Officers make life and death decisions and need to keep from seeming biased."

T'Pol seemed a little dejected at his response. Archer looked back at her and she seemed the perfect model of Vulcan composure. 

She asked, "What about friendship between officers? That possibly impacts life and death decisions. For example, Captain, do you think you can refrain from being unbiased about your decisions when it pertains to Commander Tucker?"

Trip spoke up, "Hey, he's busted my chops as much as the next guy." He looked side-ways at Archer. "Sometimes, more."

Archer grinned. "I see your point, T'Pol. But, I do believe I can be unbiased about a friendship. I don't think I could have that same objectivity about someone I was involved with romantically." 

Archer continued, "I still think it should be taken on a case-by-case basis. And, I'd prefer not to mention anything to the crew. I don't want to _encourage_ romantic relationships. Let's keep this as an unofficial policy."

T'Pol leaned in. "What if we notice a violation of this unofficial policy?" she asked.

Archer scratched his head. "As long as it's not a direct or an indirect report, or a relationship that's affecting his or her performance, no need to bring it to me." 

T'Pol looked at Trip and then back at Archer. She spoke, "Sir, I hope you will not take offense, but by this definition, you would be prohibited from entering a so-called relationship. Everyone directly or indirectly reports to you."

Archer began, "Doesn't seem like that's much of a problem." He smiled and continued, "Besides, I won't have time; I've been wanting to read _The Complete Works of Williams Shakespeare_ before next year."

She sat back in her chair, seemingly troubled. Archer wasn't sure what she was driving at, but decided to let it go. She'd been acting a little weird lately; he didn't want to press her, especially in front of Trip.

Archer noticed T'Pol hadn't touched her breakfast. 

Chapter Three 

Archer walked onto the bridge with T'Pol. She seemed distracted. As they entered the bridge, she went immediately over to her station, sat down and looked at the floor. 

"Sub-commander?" asked Archer.

"Yes, sir?" she said. 

"I'll be in my ready room, you have the bridge," said the captain walking into his office.

He settled into his chair, drank some coffee and began looking through the reports, when the door chimed.

"Come in," he said.

T'Pol walked in and folded her arms across her chest. "Why have you rejected my suggestions for the duty roster?"

He looked confused. "I'm not certain I understand," he said.

"You have not signed the duty roster I supplied you at breakfast. It's obvious you disagree with my suggestions," said T'Pol. She sounded irritated.

"Wait a second. Did you provide me one at breakfast?" asked Archer. 

"Yes. Of course I did," she responded.

"I don't recall having received it."

"I gave it to you when you walked into the dining room," she said.

"I don't think you did," he said.

"Yes, it was when you walked in and …." Her eyes opened wide. She realized he was right; she hadn't given him one. "Captain, I must sincerely apologize. You have not received one from me yet."

Archer asked, "You feeling okay?"

"I would like permission to take the rest of the day off."

Now he knew she wasn't feeling well. "Granted." 

She walked out of his office. He scratched his head thinking he'd never seen his first officer make a mistake. 'Maybe it's working with humans,' he told himself.

Archer read various reports noting the supplies that were needed, the performance measurements from various systems, which crew members were doing well and which ones weren't, and other information. He entered various notes in his PADD. He looked up at the time, registering his stomach was growling. 

'How did it get to be 1400?' he thought to himself. He'd been there all morning without a break.

He got up and walked out onto the bridge. He was surprised to see T'Pol at her station.

"I thought you were taking the rest of the day off?" he asked her.

She looked confused. "No," she said.

He furrowed his brow. "I'd like you to join me for lunch," he requested, sure something was wrong with her.

"Of course," she responded.

As they walked into the turbolift and the door shut, Archer leaned in. "T'Pol, you _did _say you were taking the rest of the day off."

She bit her lower lip, trying to remember. Archer saw this blatant emotional reaction and stopped the lift. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," she said.

"No. Something is going on," he responded.

"I … feel a little distracted. That is all. I am certain after meditating tonight, I will be more focused."

He scowled and started the turbo lift again. "You know, you could take the rest of the day off if you needed it," he said.

"That is considerate of you, but I do not think it is necessary."

He nodded as the lift opened. They walked down the corridor together and entered the mess hall.

"I understand you are reading _The Complete Works of Shakespeare_?" she asked. "Do you have a favorite play?"

Archer thought about it. He hadn't read many of them in years, but he continued to come back to a few favorites. "_Hamlet_ is probably my favorite. I also like _Macbeth_ and _Midsummer Night's Dream_."

She nodded. "I understand that the character Puck looks Vulcan-like?" she asked.

He smiled and laughed. "I guess so."

He was surprised to see something of a smile on her face. He was startled. It looked out of place.

"T'Pol, are you smiling?" he asked.

She immediately drew her mouth into a straight line. "I do not believe so."

"Have you seen _Midsummer Night's Dream_?"

She shook her head. "Unfortunately I have not. But, I have read the play. My favorite scenes are in the forest."

"Mine, too. When I was a boy, my parents would take me to a theatre in a little town called Ashland, Oregon. We went every year. I remember the first play I ever saw was _Midsummer_. I felt privileged when Oberon took me back stage after the show. In fact, that whole experience felt dream-like."

T'Pol rested her elbows on the table and leaned in with her head in her hands. She seemingly gazed into his eyes, which she noticed were a brilliant hazel. 

"What are you doing?" he asked, his trance broken. 

"I am interested in the theatre and your tale," she responded.

He could tell she was looking at the cleft in his chin. "You haven't touched your lunch," he said.

"For some reason I have not been hungry for food. I am certain that will pass."

Archer's mind tripped over the words 'hungry for food.' He sighed, "Maybe you should see Dr. Phlox."

"Yes," she said absently. She stood up and the continued, "Now, if you will excuse me, I believe I have a duty roster to prepare for you." 

Before he could stop her, she was out the door. And, rather than her typical stroll, he noticed she had a certain spring in her step.

Chapter Four 

Archer woke up and looked at the clock. He wasn't sure he was ready for another day of T'Pol acting strangely. He picked up his book and opened it to read about Puck for a moment. He smiled. 'I would like to see her laugh once,' he thought to himself. 

Archer hopped in the shower to get ready for work. Just as he was about to turn the shower on, his door chimed. He put his shorts on and walked to the door without a shirt. 

He opened the door and saw T'Pol.

"I'm sorry to intrude, but I thought I would walk with you to the mess hall," she said. 

He smirked; she seemed to be acting normal. "Well, I haven't taken a shower yet."

"I could meet you there or wait …."

"Sure you can wait," he said. "In fact, I found the last passage from Puck and thought about you this morning." He walked over to the book and handed it to her. "You can read it if you want."

"You thought of me?" she asked. "That was kind of you."

"I shouldn't be in the shower long," he responded.

He walked into his bathroom and shut the door. She heard the shower running and noticed he was singing to himself. She smiled and then noticing her emotional response, frowned. 'Why had she come here?' she asked herself.

Porthos came up to her and licked the back of her hand. Her normal disdain for the dog was gone. She patted him on the head, and quickly read the passage Archer had given her. She walked around the room and guiltily looked in his closet. She took one of his shirts and smelled it. Normally his odor would seem pungent, but today his shirt smelled like pine needles. 

She heard rustling in the bathroom like he was almost done; she managed to regain herself and restore the room. She picked up the book and sat down when he walked out.

"Read it?" he asked.

"Oh, yes," she said. "I like this passage very much. I can picture him apologizing to the audience."

She stood and handed him the book. As she did, she noticed he had a small piece of paper stuck to his cheek that had a little drop of blood on it. She removed it and handed him the paper.

He laughed. "Thanks." He felt he needed to explain. "I do that after shaving. Uhm, stops blood flow." He grinned. "Boy, that would've been embarrassing,"

She laughed a little too. "I can imagine the look on the crew's face, seeing their captain with toilet paper stuck to him."

Archer looked shocked. Her laughter sounded like a purring cat. 

She coughed. "I apologize, sir. It appears my emotions are on the surface. I will attempt to reign them in."

"The meditation did not work?" he asked.

"No," she replied.

"Is it the Pa'nar?" he asked her. 

She stood up straight. "No, but the affects are similar."

"So, you saw Dr. Phlox last night?"

"Yes," she answered.

"Well?" he asked.

"I would prefer not to discuss it," she said.

He looked hurt. "Why not?" he questioned.

"I am quite hungry. Would you like to go to the dining room with me?" she asked.

He nodded. As they walked together he was trying to give her space, but he was concerned about his first officer and his friend.

"It is nothing to be concerned about," she consoled him as they reached the dining room.

Archer rolled his eyes. "What does 'nothing to be concerned about' mean?" he asked. 

"I will recover, but I may display emotions occasionally," she said matter-of-factly. "It is a personal matter that I would rather not discuss."

"I thought we were friends," he said leaning in.

"Yes, we are. But this cannot be shared with anyone," she responded. "It has nothing to do with trust or friendship. I am sorry."

He was trying to read her, but couldn't get a fix on what she was thinking. 

They sat in silence for several moments. T'Pol pushed her food around with her fork. He opened his mouth to ask why she couldn't discuss it, but then shut it. He dug into his eggs.

"Do you need some time away from your duties?" he asked her. 

She put her hand on his. "I may soon, yes. But, I do not believe I do now." She left her hand there, staring into his eyes.

He looked at her hand on his. "Sub-commander?"

She withdrew it. "I apologize. I had best go to the bridge." She stood up.

"You haven't eaten," he responded.

"I am not hungry. I will eat something later," she said.

He was thoroughly confused. "We came here because you were hungry."

"Oh yes. I was very hungry before we arrived here," she replied and then walked out the door.

Archer shook off the feeling she was being suggestive to him. He took a sip of orange juice.

Trip walked in. "What the heck's going on with her?" he asked.

"Run into T'Pol?" asked Archer.

"She seemed to be actin' funny," said Trip.

Archer sighed. "What'd she do?" he asked.

"I know this is gonna sound strange, but I coulda sworn she winked at me," he said.

Archer shook his head. He decided rather than finishing breakfast, he'd find out what was going on. He got to the bridge and noticed his first officer was again composed and serene.

"Sub-commander may I see you in my ready room?" he asked upon entering.

"Very well. I have the duty roster. Perhaps you would care to review it?" she asked taking a PADD in her hand.

As she entered his office, Jon rubbed the back of his neck. "Do you think you can hold your emotions in check? I don't want to confine you to your quarters, but I'm concerned about your performance and wellbeing. Not only that, I think you're affecting the crew."

She raised her eyebrow. "I believe I can tamp my feelings down, sir. I assume if I cross a line, you will let me know?"

He nodded. He lowered his voice. "I don't like this at all." He looked her in the eye. "You'd let me know if this were serious, wouldn't you?" he asked.

She averted her eyes. "Of course."

He took her elbow in his hand. "T'Pol? I'm not just concerned for my first officer."

"I know," she said. "Dr. Phlox has not yet confined me to my quarters or given me a medical leave of absence. Until that day, I assume you will be able to let me work?"

"I don't know. Probably. But, I don't want to see you suffer, or negatively impact the crew," he said.

She nodded. "I would agree with those conditions." 

"Good." He took the PADD from her hand. "You said you had a duty roster for me to review?"

"Yes," she said. 

He could tell she was sweating. It made him nervous to look at her. "I'll review it by this afternoon."

"Anything else?" she asked.

"No. Thanks, T'Pol."

"Thank you, Captain," she said.

When she left, he looked after the door. Maybe she was right in that he was already biased for his friends. He wasn't sure who was letting her continue working, Jon Archer her friend, or Captain Archer. He was unsure of his motives. 

He continued reading reports, when he realized the time. He hadn't talked with any of the bridge crew, as he was accustomed to doing by this time. He got up and walked onto the bridge. He stopped at Hoshi's station first and leaned in.

"Ensign Sato, I understand you're working on a new language protocol?" he asked.

She smiled. "Yes. I've catalogued every language we've heard to date and have entered notes about each. I think this should prove valuable when teaching other Starfleet communications officers about dialect, etc."

He put his hand on her chair, leaning in closer and smiled. "Very impressive. Want to show me a sample?" he asked.

"I was hoping you'd ask," she smiled.

He laughed as she moved her hands around the keyboard. She put a small listening device to his ear. 

T'Pol watched this encounter with some angst. Her brows were furrowed, as she began to glare at the two.

He stared off into space listening to the communications program unable to hear any interaction on the bridge. Hoshi realized T'Pol was looking at them.

"Sub-commander?" Hoshi asked. 

"Yes, Ensign Sato?" T'Pol queried back.

"Is something bothering you?" asked Hoshi.

"Not in the slightest," she responded.

Archer removed the device and saw T'Pol frowning.

"You okay?" he asked quietly.

T'Pol folded her arms across her chest. "Are you, sir? Seems you are enjoying Ensign Sato's company," she stated.

Archer flared his nostrils. "Can I see you in my ready room?" He took out the listening device.

T'Pol threw her head back and stalked into his office. As he entered the room, he snapped, "You asked me to let you know when you crossed the line. You just did."

"There is nothing wrong with being attracted to her, sir," she explained in an irritated tone.

He put his hands on his hips. "I'm not attracted to her," he said. 

"I have not seen you carry on the same interest for projects Lt. Reed is working on," she explained.

He sighed. "I try to manage all my people to their strengths and weaknesses. I treat them all differently. Hoshi needs more encouragement than Malcolm does. It has nothing to do with her looks."

"What do I need more of?" she asked.

"Right now? Understanding and patience from me."

She looked down. "I am certain you are right. I apologize. My emotions are more difficult to control."

"I think you should take the rest of the day off," he suggested.

"Yes," she said. She stared off into space. 

"T'Pol?" he asked.

She looked at him and bit her lip. She turned and walked out.

Archer scratched his chin. He began looking through the database for Vulcan ailments that matched her symptoms.

Chapter Five 

The next day their routine started over again. Archer got up that morning and before showering, scheduled an early morning meeting with Dr. Phlox. Archer's search for what might be wrong with his first officer was completely unproductive. 

Archer walked into the dining room and saw Trip and T'Pol talking to each other.

"Good morning," said Archer. He was surprised to see T'Pol. He thought perhaps she would take the day off.

"Good morning, Cap'n," said Trip.

"Hello, Captain," said T'Pol.

Archer was happy to see her eating her food. She was looking thin, even for her. 

She handed him a PADD. "Sir, I would like to begin an efficiency test with the science team. I am concerned that the scanners are only receiving 96 percent efficiency."

Archer smiled. 'Yup, she's back to normal,' he thought.

After breakfast Archer and T'Pol headed up to the bridge. As they got on, T'Pol looked at the science station and noticed Hoshi was there looking at the scanner.

She walked over. "May I help you, Ensign?" she asked.

"The earlier shift was showing me how you use this instrument," Hoshi said pointing to the scanner. "It's not as difficult as I thought it would be."

Archer gave a lop-sided smile. "You're not going to switch to the science field, are you?" he asked jokingly.

Hoshi giggled, "You never know."

T'Pol broke their merriment. "Step away from my station, Ensign."

A hush fell over the bridge crew, including Archer who seemed too shocked to respond right away. 

Hoshi backed up. "I'm sorry, Sub-commander. I didn't mean to …."

"You obviously do not know what you are doing! You are mishandling my equipment. Switch to the science field? Really. The Captain lets you get away with too much, I am sure it has something to do with …."

Archer interrupted angrily, "That's enough, Sub-commander. Get in my office right now." He stood up and folded his arms across his chest.

T'Pol stiffened. A look of remorse fell over her. Ensign Sato looked utterly dumbfounded, but gave a small nod that indicated everything was okay between the two women. Even Hoshi knew something was seriously wrong with T'Pol. Not only had her behavior been strange, but also she'd been sweating a lot and looking pale for the past few days. 

T'Pol clasped her hands behind her back, straightened her spine and strolled into his office. Archer followed behind her.

As soon the door shut behind him, he yelled, "You're behavior was deplorable!"

T'Pol staggered back at his emotion. "I … I …." Suddenly, she seemed angry. Her lips were drawn into a thin line. "Crew members are rude to me on a daily basis. I do not see you dragging them in here to discuss their behavior!"

"That's it!" He threw his arms into the air. "What the Hell is wrong with you?"

She bit her lip and turned her head slightly. "This is none of your concern, sir."

"Oh, no you don't! Tell me what's going on!"

She took a deep breath. "I am attempting treatment with Dr. Phlox. I cannot discuss this with you."

He was trying to stifle his frustration. "Do I have to order you?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I have never disobeyed an order, but I will disobey that one, if you give it to me. I said I cannot discuss this with you further," she answered. "Do not subject me to anymore of this. Let me get back to my station!"

He jerked his head back. "You're confined to quarters for the rest of the day," he snapped.

"But, Captain! You are being unreasonable," she said. She was pouting.

"You heard me," he ordered.

She bent her head in shame. She looked back at him as she walked out the door.

His meeting with Phlox was at 0900, but he decided he'd see Dr. Phlox right away.

Chapter Six 

Archer walked into sickbay. Dr. Phlox was feeding some of his animals and humming.

"Doc?" asked Archer. 

Phlox looked up, startled. "Captain? I thought we'd scheduled our meeting for later this morning?" he asked.

"We did. But, I need to know what's going on with Sub-commander T'Pol now," he replied.

Phlox looked back at his animals and continued to feed them. "I am treating her for something she does not wish to discuss with anyone aboard this vessel."

"Unacceptable. Whatever this problem is, it's affecting her performance and those of her shipmates." He was getting more frustrated.

Phlox continued to feed his animals. 

"Doc?" he asked.

"I suppose I can't plead doctor-patient confidentiality?" questioned Phlox.

"Not this time," he said.

The physician looked the captain in the eye. "Very well." He put the food down and wiped his hands together. "She has a condition called Pon Farr – in Vulcan it means 'time of mating.'"

"Go on," he ordered.

"Every seven years Vulcans are required to mate, or they will die. As this is her first Pon Farr, she will need to mate soon or … perish."

Archer looked confused. Phlox continued, "The symptoms cause a Vulcan to act emotionally and irrationally."

"How do they pick their mates?" asked Archer.

Phlox shook his head. "I don't know. I think there is a ritual involved, but T'Pol has been very secretive about this. I understand some Vulcans even die in the process of mating or choosing a mate." 

"Has she contacted Vulcan?" asked Archer.

"Yes, there was little help they could provide. She has already performed an analysis to determine how long it would take to reach a Vulcan vessel or her home planet. She could reach neither within the time she has. Instead, she decided to let me try to help her."

"Can it be treated?" Archer asked.

Phlox folded his arms across his chest. "I thought so at first. Months ago, she felt the affects of Pon Farr brought on early due to a virus. I was able to treat her. However, it appears the treatment is ineffective against her body's own chemical reactions. The last test I ran from this morning indicates it's not working."

Archer took a deep breath. "Can she turn to a fellow crew member?"

Phlox sighed, "Yes, but she's reluctant to do so. The good news is your physiology is quite similar; I'm certain her needs can be … satisfied through a Human. Although, whichever one she selects might be in danger – Vulcans have superior strength."

"How much time does she have?"

"Not much. Her symptoms are getting much worse. As this is her first cycle, I don't know the exact number of days she has left." 

"Assuming she was able to find a mate, how longwould she need to … errr, have relations?"

"I don't know. The cycle itself is seven days. It appears she has already entered the second or third day."

"What do you recommend?" asked Archer.

"I think it should be her decision," he said hopelessly. "But, she must make one quickly." Phlox put his hand on Archer's shoulder. "Captain, this might be an opportune time to act on the feelings you have for her."

Archer furrowed his brow. "I don't know what you mean." He continued with confusion, "If you're talking about my attraction to her .…"

Phlox smirked. "It's obvious that your feelings for her run deeper than that."

Archer rolled his eyes and sighed, "Oh, come on. She's my first officer."

"You're concerned about taking advantage of someone who reports to you?" he asked.

"Well, yes. But, what I meant is I'm not in love with her," Archer responded.

"I never said you were. I said you have deep feelings for her," said Phlox. "But, I think you've just confirmed maybe you do."

"Enough of the psycho-babble. You're wrong. Period."

Phlox sighed, "I could be. But, I find it interesting you immediately assumed I meant love. I also find it interesting that you are so resistant to the idea of being with her. What would be the harm?"

"Listen, I will do everything in my power to help her, but I can't …. It would be inappropriate," said Archer. "I could have my command taken away."

"Would you wave these protocols if she selected someone else, even someone who reported to her?" he asked.

Archer paced. "I don't know. Maybe. Yes, I would. But, I can't … I can't make the … I can't make the first move." He paced around the physician.

"Why?" asked Phlox.

"I don't want to be wrong. If I were wrong, it would hurt our relationship. It would be better if she chose me."

"It seems she trusts you and that you are friends. If you offered to help her, I'm sure she'd be appreciative," he said.

Archer shook his head. "She may have feelings for another crew member." He sighed. "No, I can't let whatever personal feelings I have … if I have them … interfere. If she wants me to help her, I'll need her to ask me."

"Hmmm …. That's too bad. It seems that would give you the satisfaction of expressing your feelings _and _it would save her life," said Phlox curtly. 

Archer ran his hand through his hair. He was definitely agitated with this tête-à-tête he was having with the doctor. 

Phlox thought not to push him, although he wanted to. "So, what's next?"

"I'll go talk with her right away. Does she know the treatment has been unsuccessful?" Archer asked.

"Yes. Right before you got here, I informed her," said Phox. "I'm glad you confined her to her cabin for the rest of the day. I'm sure she's scared and is likely to become more emotional."

Archer nodded and walked out.

Chapter Seven 

Archer stood outside T'Pol's door, mumbling to himself about whether he should be there. He rang the chime on the door. He waited and looked around. He ran the doorbell again. After another few seconds he rang it a third time, wondering if he would have to use his entry code to get inside.

"It's Captain Archer, open the door," he said sternly.

She answered the door. It looked like she'd been crying. "T'Pol, I'd like to come in and talk with you," he said.

She shook her head. "I'd prefer not," she said.

He coaxed, "T'Pol?"

She moved away letting him step inside. He understood why she didn't want him to enter; her room was in shambles. Her bed sheets were thrown around the room, her table and chairs were knocked over and even her meditation area was ransacked.

He looked back at her. "I understand why you are acting like this," he said.

She shook her head. "Do not speak of this to me!" she said.

"I also understand you can turn to the crew for … help," he said gently.

T'Pol yelled, "Leave me alone!"

"I want you to choose which crewmen. I will wave any fraternization regulations, even those who report to you."

"I do not want _any _crewmen, Captain. I am not an animal who can mate with whomever is around. You do not understand. I would share my thoughts and feelings with this man. It is meaningful and personal."

"You have many male friends who I'm sure would be … willing – Commander Tucker, Lt. Reed …" he said. 

She began to sob. "I do not want them," she said.

He took her into his arms and let her cry on his shoulder. Her crying subsided as she rested her head on his shoulder. She wanted to writhe against him or bite his neck. Restraining herself was difficult. His smell was intoxicating. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair.

"I understand this is difficult for you. But, Dr. Phlox said you'd have to make your decision quickly," he prompted her.

She looked up at him. "You do not know how difficult."

"I'm sorry this is happening to you, and I wish you could be back on Vulcan. But, Humans have many fine qualities – we can be tender, loving and discreet, T'Pol," he said gently. "Is it so awful to mate with someone of my race?"

"You do not understand. I …." She focused on his eyes, pleading with him. Asking him silently to give himself to her. She could not ask her superior officer, Archer made that plain several days ago. But, she wanted him. She thought he wanted her, but she was uncertain.

Archer took her shoulders and looked into her eyes. "Please, T'Pol. If this will save your life, I think you should try." 

She wept into her hands. "Very well. I will decide by tomorrow."

"Can you wait that long?" he asked. 

"I do not know."

He took one of her tears on his thumb and brushed it from her cheek. He smiled sweetly. "I'll arrange for food to be delivered to your quarters. If you need to make a decision more quickly, let me know. It doesn't matter what time. Okay?" 

She looked at him and took a deep breath, attempting to control her emotions. "Yes."

"I think you made the right decision," added Archer. He walked out feeling emotionally drained.

Chapter Eight 

It was only 1200. Already, Archer felt like he had a full day. He decided to go for a quick run and think about what had happened. He wasn't used to seeing his first officer display emotions. He thought about the range and ferocity of them. Over the past few days she'd been laughing, crying, yelling and displaying affection. He thought about her touching his hand. 

As he began jogging, he kept thinking to himself that he could have easily volunteered to help her. He was her friend. He trusted her. And he had to admit she was very attractive. He stopped jogging for a moment. 'Was Phlox right?' he asked himself. He shook his head. "Of course not," he said aloud continuing his run. 

He simply couldn't offer this. He didn't want to pressure her, or make her feel as though he were coming on to her. It was inappropriate. He didn't want to be unseemly; he was the captain. But, if she chose him – that was another thing. He gave himself an out by waving fraternization regulations, no matter who it was.

He sighed and hoped that perhaps her choice would be someone who was worthy of such an experience. The thought of another man touching her hurt him. He shook the image from his mind. He nodded. 'Yup, Phlox might have something,' he thought. He knew he'd straighten this out with her tomorrow. Maybe he'd even drop by tonight to bring her something tonight. Maybe he'd talk with her. Maybe he'd ask her if he could assist her. The thought gave him goose bumps. 

He finished his run and walked back to his cabin. After running for an hour, he decided he needed to take a bath. He thought he'd eat in his office to make up for the lost time. He stripped and hopped into the shower.

After singing a few choruses of his favorite song he thought he heard a noise. 'It's probably Porthos getting into something,' he thought. He continued to lather up, singing with gusto.

He walked out with a towel around his waist and was surprised to see T'Pol. He thought she had probably used her entry code to get into his cabin. He decided this violation wasn't important. He looked her over. Her hair was messy and she was wearing casual clothes. Her cheeks and lips were a dark green, and he could tell she was sweating. She looked beautiful. 

"I am sorry to interrupt, but I do not think I can wait until tomorrow."

Archer nodded, "Let me get some clothes on. Stay here." He shut the door and walked out in a pair of trousers.

She was nervously wringing her hands. She looked up at his bare chest and wanted to put her hand on it. 

"Have you made a decision?" he asked. 

She looked at him expecting him to say something. Her eyes took in his body and she felt a crash of desire. She raised her trembling hand to her hair. She could not bring herself to say his name. She was finding it hard to think.

"T'Pol?" he prompted her. She was looking at him in silence for almost a minute.

"Whom would you have me take?" she asked.

He shook his head. He wanted to say "me," but couldn't find the words. "I want it to be your choice not mine," he said.

"I cannot chose from the men you have presented me," she said.

He felt defeated. She didn't want any of the Humans. One was just as good as another in her book. He sighed. "I don't know. Many of the women aboard think Commander Tucker is handsome. Maybe he would suffice." 

She looked confused. She had made it clear Archer was the only one she wanted. Perhaps she had misread their friendship and his feelings for her. She hung her head against her chest. "Is that who you would recommend for me?" she asked.

"I guess so," he responded. 

She looked up. "Very well."

"Want me to talk with him?" asked Archer.

"No. I believe I can. Will you ask him to meet me in his cabin?" she asked.

"Yes," he spoke sharply. He softened his tone, realizing this was her selection. "I'm glad you made a decision. I wouldn't want to lose my first officer."

She nodded. She obviously had misunderstood their friendship. He was concerned for his first officer, not her as a friend or woman. 

As she headed out the door, Archer took her arm. "It'll be okay." 

For a fleeting second, she thought she could sense that he was sad and hurt. She did not understand why and wanted to gather more of his feelings. But, before she could, he let her go.

She walked out and Archer turned to his comm. "Archer to Ensign Sato."

"Yes, sir."

"Could you get on a secure line to Commander Tucker? I have some private business to discuss with him."

"Aye, aye," she said.

"Tucker here."

"Trip, it's me, Jon. I'd like you to do me a personal favor. Take the rest of the day off and head over to your cabin. T'Pol will explain when she gets there."

"Why? What's going on?" asked Tucker.

"Just, don't ask any questions. She'll explain more. But, after she does, I'd like you to meet her request. It's not an order and you don't have to … it would be a personal favor."

"All right, I'll head to my quarters now."

"Thanks," said Jon. He felt pained. He turned back to his comm. "Archer to Reed."

"Lt. Reed here, sir."

"I'd like you to have the bridge the rest of the day. I'll be in my quarters."

"Aye, aye, sir," said Reed.

Archer lay down on his bed with his hands behind his head and closed his eyes.

Chapter Eight 

Trip walked away from Engineering wondering what in the world was going on. Archer wasn't the kind of captain to call in personal favors. In fact, the only personal favors he'd ever requested were on T'Pol's behalf. Archer wanted to make sure she fit in and the crew liked her. Tucker shook his head.

'Don't know why he puts so much effort into a relationship with a Vulcan,' Trip thought.

Tucker had to admit, this one seemed like the weirdest request yet. As he rounded the corner, he saw T'Pol waiting outside his door. She was out of uniform and looked distraught.

"Commander Tucker," she said hoarsely. "May I speak with you in your cabin?"

"Okay," he said. He opened the door and let her step in first.

She looked over his frame. Tucker was actually a handsome young man. He had a pleasing face and a slight build. However, he was not Jonathan Archer. He didn't have the grace, style and charisma of the captain. She thought his looks were not as pleasing as Archer's either.

"I need your assistance, if you are willing. But, I would request this be kept between us," she said.

He nodded. "Sure. How can I help?"

"I require a mate for the next few days. Do you think you'll be able to do this?" she asked.

Commander Tucker was floored. This was definitely the most bizarre request to date. He was sure he didn't hear her correctly. "A mate? As in …"

"That is correct. My species mates every seven years. I must give in or die," she explained. "I would only require your help for a few days at most."

He raised his eyebrows. "And you want me?" he asked. He thought T'Pol was okay, but was surprised she chose him.

"I hope you will not be offended if I tell you that you were not my first selection," she said. She was beginning to shiver. She was fevered. His body was starting to take over her mind. His lips were beginning to temp her. 

"Well, glad to know you're on your second string. Who'dya ask first?" he asked wryly.

"I asked no one," she said. Her eyes were tearing up. She wished this was Archer, but she knew she would do what she must to survive.

He smoothed her hair back. He wanted to comfort her. "Well, who was your first choice?" he asked.

Having him touch her fueled her passion. "The captain," she said. She walked toward him and put her lips to his. 

He broke the contact. "Whoa. I didn't say I would do this yet." He paused. "You didn't ask Jon?"

"Commander, please," she said. "Do not make this any more difficult than it is." 

He decided to ignore the fact she didn't want him. "Why didn't you ask him? I'm pretty sure he'd help ya," he said. 

She backed away for a moment. "Why do you say this?"

"T'Pol, come on. It's not like he mentioned anything to me. I can just tell he likes you."

"But, what proof?" she asked. The heat in her blood was making it difficult to continue this conversation. She needed Tucker; she needed someone quickly.

"He's always asking me to make sure you fit in. He's always asking personal favors from me for you – like movie night. He even asked me to accept you now," he said.

Her head was swimming and she began to cry. "Why would he send me to you?" 

"What?" he asked. "Let's get this straightened out," he said. 

"Commander Tucker to Archer," he said into the comm.

"Archer here. Everything agreed upon, Trip?" Trip noted Jon definitely sounded depressed.

"I think you'd best get over here," he said.

T'Pol felt she was barely able to stand. The heat in her veins was making her head spin. 

The door chimed. As Tucker let Archer in, T'Pol swooned. Archer reached for her to make sure she didn't fall. He picked her up in his arms.

Jon looked angrily at Trip. "I thought you'd help her!" T'Pol put her arms around his neck. 

Trip was equally angry. "Jon, I don't want her! You do. And you know what? She wants you. Why the Hell did you get me involved?" he spat.

Archer looked confused. T'Pol kissed his neck.

"You, Jon, were her choice. You're just too damned stupid to see it," said Tucker.

Archer felt her nibbling on his ear. 

"I'm going back to work. I had to leave the engines with Ensign Carter. And, I don't think he feels comfortable making the adjustments I asked him to make," said Tucker. He looked at the two beginning to kiss. 

He sighed. "Maybe you two should get back to your room, Cap'n?" asked Trip.

Archer swallowed deeply and nodded. "Can you walk?" he asked to T'Pol.

She nodded, barely standing. Archer put his arm around her and let her lean in.

"Thanks," said Archer to Trip.

Trip gave a lop-sided grin. "Don't worry, I won't say anything."

Archer took T'Pol to his cabin.

As soon as they entered, T'Pol unleashed her desire on him. She ripped off his clothes in a mad embrace and feverishly kissed his mouth. Archer returned her embrace and ferocity, walking her back to the bed. 

"I want you," she said. Her hands were dancing around his temples.

"I want you, too," he said, letting her thoughts and feelings spill over him. 

Chapter Nine 

Archer was giddy. His hand was resting across her stomach. He smiled. 

Last night was incredible. Having her thoughts roaming around his head was not as invasive as he imagined it would be. It felt more like he had someone to talk with. He assumed her thoughts were cold and sterile, but they were actually quite warm and caring. Her thoughts were like a wisp dancing in his brain. 

He nuzzled his face into her neck and pressed his lips to her ear.

She stirred, yawning like a cat. "What are you doing?" she asked.

He nibbled the tip of her ear. "I'm caressing you."

She enjoyed him petting her. "Why are you doing this?" she asked. She yawned again, nuzzling into her pillow.

"Tired?" he asked playfully. He wagged his eyebrows, kissing her shoulder.

"It was difficult to sleep last night. Your nose was rattling."

He laughed. "I don't snore," he insisted.

She raised an eyebrow. "You most certainly do."

He hugged her to him and kissed her neck. She felt a rise of passion from him, which made her gasp.

"It is not time," she whispered. "Besides, should you not get to the bridge?" she asked.

"It's 0600. I have an hour," he said. "Besides, I think it's time," he said. His mouth enveloped hers. He rolled on to her.

She protested quietly, "I should not …."

His mouth explored her torso, his tongue dipped into her navel. She quivered. "Jon," she protested again.

His fingers reached around her hip. She made a weak attempt to push him back. He could tell her mind was amused and her curiosity was peaked.

He wanted to caress every inch of her. He kissed her down her left arm, biting softly at her wrist. 

She smirked slightly. "Jon, please."

"I'm not done," he said. He kissed down her left side, on her breast and down her hip and to her leg.

"Jon," she said.

He nibbled on her thigh and continued to her foot. He put his teeth to her foot and she gripped the bed. 

He looked up in surprise. To test her reaction, he kissed the center of her foot. She moaned. A wicked smile spread across his lips. She was writhing.

He nibbled on her pinky toe. 

"I need you," she said hoarsely. 

He raised his eyebrows. He moved to her other foot; his mouth touched her sole. 

She clutched the bedding. "Please," she asked.

He suckled her big toe. She was finding it difficult to breathe. Her mind was pleading with him. His tongue flicked against her leg, trailing up her inner thigh. She moaned, urging his shoulders up so his face could meet her lips. 

"It's not time, yet," he said smiling.

"Yes, it is," she said pulling him toward her.

He wanted to torture her just a little more with pleasure, but felt her desire control him. He staggered back. He sought her lips and eagerly tasted them.

Their bodies intertwined as they groped and kissed each other. As their passion mounted, T'Pol took his head in her hands and looked in his eyes. She was lightly sweating and had a green tint to her skin. He gazed at her and did something he hadn't expected. "I love you," he said. 

She shook in his arms as her body spasmed with delight. He groaned softly as he felt himself succumb to her. He breathed deeply. Letting the smaller tremors die down. He looked into her eyes. 

She entangled her finger in a lock of his hair. "That was very satisfying." She stretched her two fingers out; Archer put his to hers.

He smiled. "Yes it was." He stroked her two fingers with his for several minutes. He broke their contact to kiss her lips again.

Before he could, T'Pol decided to speak. "Jon, I would like to talk with you."

He rolled onto his side. He closed his eyes thinking he almost had gotten away with it. "Yes," he said. 

"You have been a good mate. I appreciate your help. You may be pleased to know I feel the need to mate fading, especially after the series of embraces from last night," she said. 

"Oh," he said. He settled back into his pillow and looked at the ceiling. 

She spoke, "You are not pleased?"

"I don't know. I'm glad you're feeling better. But, I guess I'm wondering – what happens to us now?" he asked.

She looked confused. "What do you mean?"

He could tell from her thoughts and response there was no "us." She could tell from his thoughts and response there was definitely an "us."

"Jon, we surely cannot continue this relationship."

"Why not?" he asked. He knew why.

"Must I tell you what you already know?" she asked. He was silent. "You are still my superior officer," she said.

"I know," he said. 

"I did not know your feelings for me were so strong," she explained. "I did not wish to hurt you."

He began hoarsely, "I thought you returned many of those feelings." His throat felt like it was tightening up, making it difficult to speak.

"Through the Pon Farr, I returned them. Yes. I am uncertain afterward." 

He managed to croak out, "Oh."

"There will always be something special between us, but I do not believe we can continue this relationship once my fever is gone," she explained.

"Would you want to if I was not your superior officer?" he asked.

"I do not know," she said. "I had not considered that since it is impossible."

"I see," he said. He felt foolish and decided not to press her further. "Are you done?" he asked. 

She gave raised her eyebrow. She could tell he was in pain and wanted to comfort him, but she did not want to delude him into thinking there was more between them. 

"Yes," she said.

"Will you need me again?" he asked.

"Yes," she said. "But not until later today." She paused. "I wanted to spare your feelings further by being honest with you."

"I definitely know where you stand," he said. He stood up and walked over to the shower, got in, turned on the water and put his head against the wall.

T'Pol put on her clothes and walked into the bathroom.

"I am sorry for hurting you," she explained. She could tell he was upset, but couldn't sense it through their link. He put up a wall between them.

"I'll be back at about 1800, unless you need me. Feel free to stay here," he said.

She wanted to open the shower door, but sensed he needed some privacy. She walked out and made his bed. 

He walked out with a towel around him. He walked over to the closet, got everything he needed to get dressed and went back in the bathroom without looking or talking with her.

When he left, he was dressed in his uniform. 

"Captain, I wish to …," she realized her mistake.

He thought he couldn't feel any worse, but hearing his lover just call him by his rank, felt like a punch to the stomach. "Yes?" he asked, his face completely devoid of emotion.

"I did not mean to call you by your title. I intended to …," she began.

"That's okay. I'll see you tonight," he walked out before she could say anything else.

Chapter Ten 

Archer didn't go by the dining room, he went directly to the bridge. He was already running behind and didn't feel very hungry.

He sat down in his chair, staring off into space for about ten minutes.

Hoshi looked up. "Everything okay, sir?" she asked.

"Huh? Oh, yes. Thanks," he said.

She eyed him. Everything was definitely not okay. He looked distracted and sad. Besides, he was usually jovial when he entered the bridge.

"Uhm, Lt. Reed, you have the bridge," he said. He went into his ready room and sulked. He looked over the reports he had to review and tossed them on his desk. 

His door chimed.

"Come," he said hoarsely.

Commander Tucker looked over at him. "I wanted to find out how that little problem turned out?" he asked joyfully.

Archer faked a smile. "Great. Sorry, Trip. I don't know what I was thinking."

Trip noticed Jon didn't seem as happy as he would've expected. "Somethin' up?"

Archer tried to smile harder. "Nope. You know, just a lot of work piling up."

Trip nodded. "Well, does this mean you're going to further change your fraternization regs?" he asked grinning.

Archer forced a laugh.

"Are you sure nothing's goin' on?" asked Trip again.

"Yeah. Thanks, Trip," he said escorting him out of his office.

As the door shut, Trip looked over at Hoshi and shook his head.

Chapter Eleven 

Archer hadn't eaten lunch or dinner either. He tried to pour himself into his work, but would occasionally think about what she'd said and feel sorry for himself. He didn't want to feel sorry for himself; he just couldn't face reality. Last night and this morning felt like a dream. 

Of course she was right. Of course they couldn't be more than friends. But, he'd wanted to. His feelings for her were more complex now.

He looked at the clock and noticed the time. He told T'Pol he'd be in his cabin by now. He could feel her desire for him begin. His head felt cloudy.

When he got back to his cabin he noticed dinner waiting for him. T'Pol had arranged for dinner to be brought to his cabin. She could tell he was hungry, but that had refused to eat. 

She was dressed in a sleek black Vulcan robe, rather than the large bulky ones he was accustomed to seeing. "Are you well?" she asked.

"I'm fine, thanks," he said. 

He looked at the meal. He had steak, wine and potatoes waiting for him. He looked up. "Thanks for arranging for dinner."

She walked toward him and put her hand to his cheek. "I noticed you were hungry. Why did you not eat today?" she asked.

"Didn't feel like it," he responded.

She kissed him, which he passionately returned. He kissed her neck and ears. "Tell me you want me," he whispered.

She was confused. "I do," she responded. "I do need you." She felt caught up in his lust.

"Tell me you want me, T'Pol," he said. His hands felt the curves of her body. He kissed her collarbone.

"Yes," she gasped. She began to unzip his uniform when he stepped away.

She looked confused. "I want you," she said.

He grabbed her in his arms and pulled at her robes. She was naked in front of him, trembling. She reached for his zipper and he stepped away.

He unzipped his uniform slowly in front of her, holding her eyes with his gaze. He slowly tugged at his shirt, revealing his muscular chest. She touched him and he stepped away. He removed his undergarments and stood in front of her.

She was shivering. He took her into his arms and kissed her wildly. His want for her was overwhelming and invading. His mouth and tongue touched almost every part of her body. She was gripping his shoulder to the point of pain. His picked her up and carried her to the bed. 

His passion was almost uncontrolled. The yearning from him was dark, not like the tenderness he had shown her that morning. Grunts escaped his lips as he toppled onto her again and again. His head was curled into her neck.

She again took his head in her hands and looked in his eyes. She could see a torment there that was paining his heart. She could see he was trying desperately not to tell her he loved her. His mind was set on satisfying her. She could tell he was trying to meet her needs – give her what she wanted. 

She gripped his shoulders and cried out softly. She was quaking from their embrace. With one last growl, he let his body slump onto hers and hugged her neck.

Her fingers ran through his hair. She kissed the side of his head. He lay on top of her in silence. He rolled off and looked up at the ceiling, wondering what he would say.

After several minutes, T'Pol spoke to him. "Jon, you asked me if you were not my superior officer if I would want to continue a relationship with you. I did not answer honestly," she said. "I would want to continue."

He looked into her eyes and then kissed her. He knew what she was thinking. 'But, he _is _my superior officer.' 

He let some of the sadness go and decided to give himself to her until she no longer needed him.

"Will I always be able to hear your thoughts and feel your emotions?" he asked.

"I do not know. Vulcan scientists think it is impossible to meld with Humans. You have proven them wrong," she said.

He sighed. He hoped he would continue to hear the tickle of her thoughts. They seemed dream-like.

She furrowed her brow and he touched the point between them. He nibbled on her ear. 

"When do we go back to being just friends?" he asked.

"Soon," she said.

"How soon?" he asked. He knew the answer. She needed to mate only once more to purge her fever.

"Tomorrow morning," she responded. "I believe I will need you once more."

He nodded. He smiled, "I better eat something. I want it to be something we remember."

Chapter Twelve 

Archer woke up tired. He scratched his head and looked over T'Pol. 

They had decided that by morning, they would be friends. He resisted the urge to kiss her and got up to take a shower.

He walked out and saw T'Pol was awake. 

"Hi," he said. 

"Hello," she answered.

"Sleep okay?" he asked. He wanted to put his hands through her hair.

"Yes," she responded. "But, I am tired. And yourself?"

He grinned, "Definitely not enough sleep. But, it seems you were wrong about the number of times to satisfy you Pon Farr."

"I should probably leave. We have bridge duty in less than two hours," she said.

"Right," he agreed.

She stood up and put on her Vulcan robes, as Archer took one last precious view of her breath-taking body.

"Really," she said, hearing the licentious thoughts that were coming from his mind.

He shook his head. "Sorry. It's going to take some getting used to. Being your friend again, that is." He would miss being her lover. He enjoyed being with her. He wanted to touch her and smell her.

She looked at him with his towel around his waist. "Indeed." She had the same feelings.

She walked toward the door and he stood watching her. He put his fingers out, which she took eagerly.

"Thank you, Jon. I have grown … accustomed to you," she said sadly.

"I love you, T'Pol," he whispered.

She walked out, forgetting to check her disheveled hair. As she left, Ensign Mayweather walked down the hall. He wanted a chance to talk with the captain about what he'd seen earlier than week.

He shook his head at the idea of Sub-commander T'Pol leaving Archer's cabin. She seemed surprised to see him.

"Good morning, Ensign," she said with stoicism.

"Good morning, Sub-commander," he returned.

"The Captain and I were participating in meditation early this morning," she lied.

"Oh," he said. He knew there was a logical explanation.

"Are you going to see Captain Archer?" she asked.

"Yeah, I think I owe him an explanation about what he saw the other morning," said Travis. "I wanted to let him know that I'd taken care of the issue."

She nodded. "Good luck then." She walked off hoping she'd given Archer enough time to put on his uniform.

Mayweather rang the chime on the door. Archer zipped up his uniform, but something told him to take this conversation to the mess hall. He walked out, swishing the door behind him quickly.

Mayweather thought he saw a dining cart and candles. 'Impossible,' he told himself.

"Travis?" asked Archer cracking his voice slightly.

"Captain, I wanted to let you know something important."

"Walk with me to breakfast," Archer said already down the corridor.

"Sir, I wanted to let you know that I ended my affair with Ensign Fairbanks," said Travis quietly.

"Why?" he asked, stopping in the hall.

Travis looked shocked. "Because it's against regulations, sir."

Archer nodded continuing to walk. He entered the mess hall and headed for the dining room, motioning that Travis follow.

Travis seemed perplexed. Archer sat down and offered Travis a chair. "I have been mulling this over all week. Ensign Fairbanks is in Engineering, isn't she?" he asked.

"Yes," said Travis.

"How often do you work with her?" Archer asked.

"Never," said Mayweather. 

"How'd you meet?" he asked.

Travis looked puzzled. "We were at movie night. She accidentally spilled her drink on me. She just looked so lovely. It was amazing how much we had in common. She grew up on a cargo ship. In fact, we think maybe we met before when I was younger. Things just took off from there."

"Sounds like you still care for her," said Archer.

Travis looked down. "I do."

Archer nodded. "Well, you know what I think you should do?"

Travis shook his head. "No, sir."

"I think you should go back and ask Ensign Fairbanks to see if she wants to have breakfast with you," he said.

Travis stuttered. "I … I … ddddon't think I heard you correctly."

"I said go invite her for breakfast. Maybe even take it to her cabin. She'd probably appreciate it."

"But, sir …."

"Some rules are meant to be broken. It's unrealistic to stay out in space for long periods of time without interactions between people here. Besides, you don't work together. There shouldn't be any problem."

Travis smiled.

"But, I'd like to keep this between us," he clarified as T'Pol entered the room. 

She and Jon exchanged glances and she looked down.

"Better hurry, Travis. Your shift starts in about an hour," Archer said. 

Travis bounded out the door with a grin.

Archer began to eat his breakfast. "I see you're going back to work," he said.

"Yes, I feel I can control most of my remaining emotions," she said. "I should not negatively impact the crew."

He pushed his food around with his fork. She could tell he was depressed. 

"Sir, I have not reviewed the efficiency reports for the science section. I apologize. I will get those to you by 1000. In addition, I believe you and I should discuss the duty roster. It has been a day since we have rotated …."

"T'Pol," he protested.

"Captain?" she asked.

"Don't," he said. "I don't want to talk about work." He was thinking about putting his hand on hers. He sighed thinking it would be inappropriate. He wished he could forget everything that happened and go back to the way things were before.

"I could help you forget, if that is what you wish," said T'Pol, reading his thoughts.

He shook his head. "No. I want to remember." He paused. "I just don't know how I can handle this."

She understood this to be a rhetorical question.

He stood up. "I'll be on the bridge."

T'Pol began to quote a passage that Archer had asked her to read only days before from _Midsummer Night's Dream_:

If we shadows have offended, 
    
     Think but this,—and all is mended,— 
    
    That you have but slumber'd here 
    
    While these visions did
    
     appear. 
    
    And this weak and idle theme, 
    
    No more yielding but a dream, 
    
    Gentles, do not reprehend; 
    
    If you pardon, we will mend. 
    
    And, as I am an honest Puck, 
    
    If we have unearned luck 
    
    Now to 'scape the serpent's tongue, 
    
    We will make amends ere long; 
    
    Else the Puck a liar call: 
    
    So, good night unto you all.
    
    T'Pol reached out her hand to say the last lines, "Give me your hands, if we be friends, And Robin shall restore amends." 
    
    He picked up her hand and kissed the palm. He turned away and left. 

Chapter Thirteen 

Archer was on the bridge, drinking some coffee. He noticed T'Pol when she walked in. 

She stared into her scanner, and began entering a few pieces of information into her console. She noticed he was looking at her, but decided not to look back. 

She was still projecting thoughts onto him, but they were work-related. She had hardly noticed him sitting in the chair. She was concerned about being gone so long. And she was concerned about repairing her friendship with Hoshi.

"Captain, I will complete the duty roster and provide it to you at 1000," said T'Pol.

He nodded, chewing the inside of his lip. "You have the bridge, Sub-commander."

She nodded and he walked into his ready room.

As the door shut he slumped into his chair and put his head in his hands. He sighed, rubbing his chin. He realized he'd forgotten to shave this morning. 

'Perhaps this is why Starfleet has regulations against relationships,' thought Archer as he stood. He looked out the window and then put his head against the glass.

[top]

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Video captures by fabulous Enterprise 8875©2003.   
Reviews provided by Monica. 


	2. Some Rules are Meant to be Broken 2

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Some Rules are Meant to be Broken, Part 2 

Some Rules are Meant to be Broken: one | two | three | four 

Chapter One 

The ready room was quiet. The hum of the floorboards seemed deafening. Archer looked out at the stars and leaned his head against the glass. A few tears touched his cheek. He felt like an idiot; he hadn't cried since his father's funeral. He tried to pull himself together, but felt like an emotional wreck - the past few days and his relationship with T'Pol had taken their toll on him. He wanted to indulge in a good sulk and think about her, but felt stupid for doing so.

His door chimed. He forced his head back against his shoulders and looked at the ceiling. He expelled out a long blast of air from his lungs, and rubbed his face with the palm of both hands. 

The door chimed again. He knew precisely who it was - it was her - T'Pol. He didn't really want to talk with her, but didn't see how he could ignore her. He walked behind his desk. He hoarsely said, "Come in."

She stepped in and walked toward him. "I have the duty roster prepared for you." 

He knew she was using this as an excuse, but he wanted to keep their conversation on only business.

He grabbed the padd from her hand. She stared at him for a moment, looking into his now green eyes. She thought the lashes looked wet.

She wanted to talk with him further, but didn't think continuing the conversation on the bridge or even in his office was appropriate. She'd been trying to push thoughts of him out of her mind all morning. Although her Pon Farr was gone, she felt a lingering desire for him. She surmised those feelings would vanish in time. She continued to keep those thoughts deep within her mind.

"Anything else?" he asked in a monotone voice.

"Jon," she began.

A flash of anger sparked behind Archer's eyes upon hearing his first name. She continued carefully, "Perhaps you should take the rest of the day off."

"How thoughtful of you to be concerned about me," he remarked. He looked back at the padd and tossed it on his desk.

The sarcasm wasn't lost on her. She walked over to him. "I think this merits more discussion, but perhaps in a few days when we have both thought things through."

"I think the discussion is over. Thank you for the roster. I'll review it as soon as possible." He looked down at his desk and picked up a stylus for a tablet. 

She stood over him, furrowing her eyebrows. She watched him work for the next minute. She opened her mouth and he looked up.

"Yes?" he asked.

"Nothing."

She went back to her station and sat in her chair with a heavy thud. She folded her arms across her chest as she stared into space.

After a few moments, Hoshi noticed T'Pol was back and walked over to the first officer. "So, are you feeling better?" she asked.

T'Pol forgot to apologize to Hoshi this morning. Although it had been foremost in her mind when she entered the bridge earlier, she had neglected to deliver the apology. Instead, she let her feelings for the captain get in the way of repairing this friendship.

"Thank you, I am feeling better," she answered knowing Hoshi was not referring to her emotions. She paused. "Ensign, I apologize for behaving badly toward you. I meant no slight." She continued. "I think you are a fine communications officer and am certain with more training you could become an excellent science officer."

Hoshi was surprised by a full and complete apology. "I knew you weren't yourself, but having you say you're sorry sure makes me feel better." She smiled at the Vulcan.

"No, I have not been myself," affirmed T'Pol.

"So, what's the captain's excuse?" she asked, giving a nod to the ready room.

T'Pol stiffened. "He is upset with me," she disclosed.

Hoshi's eyes widened. "Oh," she said.

"I must continue to get back to my scans," said T'Pol, making an excuse to keep working.

Hoshi went back to her station trying to imagine why Captain Archer was mad at T'Pol. 

Chapter Two 

Archer dove into his work. Occasionally, he'd hear T'Pol's surface thoughts, but put them aside. Her voice in his head sounded warm and inviting. He scowled at his reminiscence. He noticed her voice seemed louder than before. Some things he could hear clearly, and others sounded like muffled whispers. Sometimes the images in his mind were distracting. He shook his head.

After reviewing several reports, he looked at the clock and noticed the time was 1227. He usually stopped to talk with the crew to see how they were by now. His usual routine was to check in with Hoshi first. He walked out onto the bridge and crossed it to the armory station. "Malcolm, I read that the armory is at 99% efficiency."

Reed sat up in his chair. "Yes, sir."

Archer smiled at him. "Excellent. I also read you've asked your staff to work on their target practice for away missions."

He beamed. He never got this much attention from Archer. "Yes. I wanted to ensure they could successfully fire a host of weapons, sir."

Archer nodded. "Keep up the good work."

He crossed back to his chair.

"All stations report normal," said T'Pol looking at him, hoping to get his attention.

He nodded. "Yes. Thank you, Sub commander."

Hoshi looked up and realized T'Pol was right; Archer was angry at his first officer. 

Archer's stomach was rumbling. He bit the side of his lip, deciding whether to go to lunch or not.

"Captain, I am going to the dining room. Would you care to join me for lunch?" asked T'Pol. She wanted him to eat and knew if she'd asked in this setting, he would have a difficult time saying no. She also wanted to finish an earlier discussion.

He stared at her. "Very well," he said. He looked at Reed. "Malcolm, you have command."

"Aye, sir," said Reed.

After the two walked onto the turbolift and the door shut, Mayweather turned to the bridge staff. "You guys are going to think I'm crazy, but I saw Sub commander T'Pol leaving the captain's room this morning. And her hair was disheveled."

Reed laughed. "You are loony. I'm certain you're mistaken. He's the captain; she's his first officer. And she's a Vulcan." 

Mayweather spoke again. "I'm telling you guys. I'm pretty sure I saw candles in his room."

Hoshi perked up. "Really?"

Reed shook his head. "Come off it."

Hoshi spoke up. "Are you sure?"

Mayweather furrowed his brow. "No. I'm not 100% sure, but I'm pretty sure."

Reed smirked. "Exactly as I said. Captain Archer would never be involved with her. You must be imagining it."

Mayweather wished he could share more information, like how the captain had encouraged him to get breakfast for his girlfriend, Susan Fairbanks. But, he couldn't; the captain had asked that bit of information remain confidential - something about not wanting to encourage fraternization, but allowing it. Besides, Reed was probably right. Archer, although one of the most personable captain's he met, seemed strictly business with his crew.

Hoshi on the other hand, decided to ask T'Pol out for dinner sometime in the near future. She thought there was something to this, and that T'Pol might need help figuring human males out.

Chapter Three 

Archer was silent in the turbolift. His arms were folded across his chest and he was staring at the wall. He caught a whiff of the incense she used -- nutmeg. It made him think about having her wrapped in his arms. He shifted his weight uncomfortably. 

"Jon, I wanted to talk with you," she said.

He glared at her. "I'm listening," he said.

She sighed. "I know you are troubled."

"Troubled? No. I'm upset," he snapped as the turbolift opened. He calmed down and walked down the hall without saying another word. They passed through the mess hall and into the dining room. When they found themselves alone, he continued.

"I'm upset, T'Pol," he said. "Hurt, angry, confused - need I go on?" He looked down at the table. He sighed. "Working with you is difficult right now." He thought about last night and how she'd told him she wanted him. He shook the idea off. He had teased her, forcing her to say she wanted him. 

She caught that image from him and her cheeks flushed dark green. "Perhaps you have a suggestion on how to continue our working relationship?" she asked.

He thought about it as the steward brought out the special for Archer and soup for Sub commander T'Pol. When the steward was out of earshot, they continued their conversation.

He sighed. "Maybe I _should _take a couple of days off," he said. "I already have tomorrow off." He looked at the sandwich in front of him, noting it didn't look very appetizing.

"You should eat," she said, getting the feeling he wasn't going to. She put her spoon into her soup and brought it up to her mouth.

He watched her purse her lips to the spoon. Her tongue lightly grabbed the utensil as she tilted it. She closed her eyes as she tasted it. He rubbed the back of his neck trying to root out the image. "I should definitely take a few days off," he corrected.

The image in his mind forced her to look up and place the spoon back in the food. "Would you like to start now?" she asked.

He looked at her lips and wet his. "Yes, I think I should begin now."

"I will tell the crew you took ill," said T'Pol.

He nodded, feeling his throat closing up. He stood up as she grabbed his hand. 

"Jon, you _do _mean a great deal to me. I am extremely grateful to you for your assistance and am sorry that I have caused you pain," said T'Pol.

Archer felt like a yo-yo. He winced, standing up and forcing his hand away. "Don't do this to me. You've already made your choice." He backed away from the table.

She looked confused. "There was and is no choice. This is the only option." She looked into his sorrowful eyes. "This 'choice' is an eventuality - a certainty. There can never be another outcome. We can never have a relationship, Captain."

'Now it's Captain?' he thought. He folded his hands across his chest and said, "It was not _my _choice or my eventuality. I am ...was ...prepared to let it continue." 

Her brows knotted together. "You would disregard Starfleet regulations and the very rules you place upon others?" she asked.

He shrugged. "If you returned my feelings, I would talk with Admiral Forrest about this and let him make the final decision." He blew out a deep breath. "I don't know."

"And what about the differences in our races?" she asked.

"What about them?" he retorted.

She shook her head. "Surely, you are not naïve enough to think our people would accept such a match."

"I don't care what people think, T'Pol," he said.

She arched her eyebrow. "Your reasoning is folly." She continued, "Having two days to reflect may change your mind." She paused. "I have observed that humans change the way they feel for others in a short period of time."

He grimaced as if she'd slapped his face. "Really? Is that your so-called observation?" His face reddened and his nostrils flared. "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I have loved you for some time ...whether I admitted it to you or not." He continued. "But, more than one year is a short period of time to you, isn't it?"

She looked confused.

"I think your observations of humans, in this and many other cases, is wholly inaccurate!" 

She bit her lower lip. "I do not understand."

"No, I'm sure you don't!" he snapped. "I'll be in my quarters." He headed toward the door. "You're in charge, Sub commander." 

The door shut. She looked after it for a moment and then went back to her soup. 

Chapter Four 

He marched back to his cabin, pushing his hands through his hair in anger. He wanted to go for a run or jab the punching bag, but decided against it. He was supposed to sick.

He was relieved to be in his room. He changed out of his uniform and put on a pair of navy drawstring pants and a white shirt. He rolled his head from side to side and tried to ease the tension in his shoulders. Porthos jumped on the bed and began to lick his hand. Archer smiled.

He sat down on his bed and took out his book. He opened it and began to read _Much Ado About Nothing_. He smirked - what irony: the story of couples afraid to commit or unable to commit. He wasn't sure if he was Seigneur Benedick or not. "Sigh no more," the first page read. He snorted.

Porthos settled next to Archer's arm, as he continued to pet his dog.

The door chimed. He stood up and walked toward the door. As he opened it, he saw Trip.

"All right. I want to hear what's going on," said Trip. "And not the flimsy story that you're 'ill.'"

Archer scratched his head as Trip walked in and sat at the small captain's table, propping his feet up.

"Come on in," said Archer sarcastically.

"What the heck's going on?" asked Trip. 

Archer turned around. "It's complicated."

"So, I'm guessing that means that you and T'Pol didn't work out," Trip said.

As if to affirm Trip's guess, Archer looked away. "Trip, I don't really want to talk about it," he said. He sat down across from his engineer with a heavy thud and put his cheek on his hand.

"Then why you sittin', Jon?" he asked.

"I knew our relationship was temporary," he sighed.

"Bullshit," said Trip with emphasis and a drawl on the 'shit.' He put his feet down on the floor. 

He felt Archer needed a drink. Tucker took out a small flask and winked at Archer. "This is from my own private collection, Cap'n. Took me about a week to make."

Archer regarded the flask. "As the captain, I probably shouldn't know you have this, much less are making this in your room."

"You're off the clock, 'member?"

Archer unscrewed the top and took a sip. His face tightened and he coughed.

"Oh, it's not that bad!" said Tucker. "That gin recipe came from Tucker moonshiners all the way back to the early 1900s."

"That's exactly when this tastes like it was made - the early 1900s," said Archer. "Just tell me you don't take this into engineering with you," said Archer.

"Nope, brought it over for this occasion. But, you obviously don't know quality hooch." 

Archer smiled, taking another sip with the same reaction.

Trip changed subjects back to their original discussion. "I think you wanted this little romance to continue ...indefinitely."

"How could I be so stupid?" asked Archer.

"I've never seen you broken up over a girl like this," Tucker said. He scratched his head and thought about whether he'd actually seen Archer date anyone. He didn't want to get caught up in the details and facts.

Archer nodded. "Yeah." He looked up from the table. "Not even Rebecca."

Tucker was surprised his guesses were so on. He'd never seen Archer in love with a woman, but had seen all the signs before ...mostly from himself. "How long you been in love with her, Jon?" Tucker asked.

Archer smiled wryly, taking another sip from the flask. "That obvious?"

Trip nodded. "Yup."

Archer shrugged. "Don't know. More than a year." He thought about the first time he'd met T'Pol. He had to admit he thought she was attractive then, even when she was a pain in his ass. He smiled - how ironic, he was in love with someone from a race of people who prevented his father from seeing his life's work accomplished.

The engineer whistled, shaking his head. "That's trouble," Trip continued. "So, what do you do now?"

"Sulk in my quarters and try to forget. And try to prevent it from affecting my performance or negatively impacting the crew, including T'Pol," he said.

"That's an interesting plan," said Trip. "Think it'll work?"

Archer guffawed. "Not today. I don't know about the long run. Maybe I can convince myself to tamp down those feelings. I did it before." 

Trip nodded. "But now?"

"I don't know if I can." He put his head into his hands. "I am so screwed."

"Well at least you have your sense of humor about it."

Archer snorted and looked up. "I can't believe I'm actually asking this, but ...what would you do?"

Trip grinned. "I have three ingredients to cure love: get drunk as hell, listen to country songs non-stop and find another woman - pronto."

Archer shook his head; he knew he'd regret asking. "That's really what you'd do?" he asked. 

"Works like a charm every time," Trip smiled.

"How many times has it worked?" asked Archer with only half a smile. 

"Too many times to count," grinned Trip. "I'll send you a few of the very sappiest country songs. That'll probably help," said Trip standing up.

"I don't really like country music," confessed Archer. 

Trip froze and then quipped, "I could send you some Vulcan chants."

Archer winced. "Country music sounds fine," he retorted.

"I thought you'd see it my way," said Trip. Archer handed him back the flask, but Trip pushed it back into the captain's chest. "Nope, you're gonna need that."

Archer raised his brows. "I've got plenty of alcohol in my quarters."

"The worse the booze, the better you'll feel ...in the long run that is." He walked out and looked back at the captain. "I'll check with ya at 2330 hours to make sure you're good and trashed." Trip walked down the hall, as the door swished shut.

Archer went back to his book. He thought about Tucker's advice. Although he didn't want to listen to country music or hook up with someone else aboard the ship, he decided drinking copious amounts of alcohol was in order. 

He poured himself a martini and put on some electronic music. The woman's voice was hard to make out, but she sounded incredibly sad. He was never sure if this song was in French, or in English. But, he was certain he never understood what she was saying even though he liked the tune. He picked up the Shakespeare anthology and continued reading.

After a couple of hours, Archer was working on his fifth martini. His head was definitely spinning. He'd put on Billie Holiday, hoping to think of T'Pol and purge whatever demons he had. Instead he thought about kissing those perfectly pointed ears. 

He stared at the ceiling, playing the events of the past two days in his mind again, hoping to gain something from it, or maybe cry more ...whichever came first. He was just glad he was out in space. The last time a girl broke up with him, he ended up contacting old girlfriends ...all of them were married.

His door chimed. Archer stood up, nearly falling over. He was drunker than he thought.

He got to the door and saw Dr. Phlox grinning. "I heard you weren't feeling well, so I'm making a house call," said the doctor pushing his way into Archer's cabin. Archer shook his head.

Phlox looked over at the martini glass on his nightstand and listened to the woman with the bluesy voice playing in the background. He shook his head. "I take it things did not work out with Sub commander T'Pol?" asked Phlox.

Archer grabbed his drink and chugged the remainder. He felt like a freaking open book to everyone onboard. "Something like that," said Archer trying not to slur. 

"Have you eaten dinner, Captain?" asked Phlox.

Archer thought about it. No wonder he was completely drunk; he hadn't had dinner. In fact, he hadn't eaten hardly anything all day. "No," he said. He went over and made himself another vodka martini. He held up his drink, gesturing Phlox to have one. The doctor waved off the suggestion. 

"Do you think that's wise, sir?" asked Phlox staring at a man on a mission.

"Nope," he said, grinning. He took another gulp of what was in his glass.

"I can order something to eat, if you'd like," said Phlox.

"Ooooo, steak," he said. He tripped a little over his own feet, falling onto the bed.

Phlox walked over. "You okay?" 

Archer scrambled to his feet, as if nothing happened. "Sure," said Archer. He'd realized he'd spilled on alcohol on white T-Shirt. "Oh, hell."

Phlox rolled his eyes and walked over to the com. He ordered something for dinner to be delivered as soon as possible. Archer smiled goofily. Phlox thought for being down in the dumps, Archer was a sweet drunk.

"So, you made your house call. I appreciate it. Thank you," said Archer walking toward the door, as if to escort Phlox out.

Phlox sat down in the same chair that Trip occupied only an hour earlier. "Captain, I wish to talk with you," he said.

That's what Archer was afraid of. "What can I do for you?" He made it to a chair and leaned back. "I'm the captain. I listen to other people's problems."

"Actually, I wanted to talk about your problems," he said.

Archer rubbed his jaw. "That's okay, I …."

Phlox continued, "I must apologize. You took my advice and it doesn't seem to have helped the situation. I was certain there would be a different outcome," he said.

"Well, ya lose some and ya lose some," dismissed Archer. He thought to himself that didn't sound quite right.

"Yes. Well, you are obviously distraught, considering your condition."

"Actually, I'm taking Trip's advice. 'Cept for the country music." He tried to cross his legs and missed. "I hate country music." He tried to cross his legs again and focused, accomplishing the feat with some effort. 

As Phlox opened his mouth, Archer shouted, "Wait!" He pointed toward the ceiling as if to pontificate. "And I'm not going to 'find another woman -- pronto.'" He paused. "Not that I would anyway," he drank deeply.

"Are you going to talk with T'Pol?" asked Phlox. He was thinking he'd stop by later and give Archer a remedy for his hangover.

Archer scowled. "Don't think there's anything to say." 

"And you are upset by this?" asked Phlox.

Archer's face broke into a smile. "You're trying to psycho-analyze me, aren't you?" he asked. He wagged his finger at the doctor.

Phlox didn't say anything.

"Yup, you sure are." He wanted to pinch his cheek, and then thought about touching the doctor's scales - recoiling. "Okay, I'll play along." He made his voice sound serious. "Yes. I am upset," said Archer taking another swig. He leaned back in his chair.

"What are you going to do?" asked Phlox.

Archer scratched his chin. "Well, I took today off. I'm following Charles Tucker's cure for love, otherwise known as getting drunk. I have tomorrow off anyway. And I'm going to sit down with Willy." 

Phlox looked shocked.

Archer gave a deep, hearty laugh. "William Shakespeare - my book," he clarified, pointing to the anthology. 

Relief crept across Phlox's face. "So, you're avoiding her?"

"Hell yeah."

Phlox shook his head. "So, in two days do you think you'll be ready to work with her?" he asked.

"Dunno," he said. "You're the professional. You tell me."

Phlox said, "No, I don't think that will be enough time. And, I don't think drinking yourself into a stupor is the answer either."

Archer smiled, "Feels like a good answer." He swirled his glass and took a sip.

The door chimed. Archer got up, nearly tripping over himself and swaggered toward the door.

"Perhaps you should let me get that, sir," said Phlox trying to intercept the food.

Phlox made it in time and looked at the steward. "Thank you."

Archer stood over Phlox's shoulder looking at the man delivering his food. The steward looked at the captain. "How are you feeling, sir?" he asked.

Phlox spoke up. "He's unwell. In fact, could you bring him breakfast in the morning? His usual?"

The young man nodded, "Of course. Hope you feel better soon." He walked down the hall.

Archer grabbed the plate from Phlox. "I'm famished." He looked at the steak and took it over to his table tucking in. After the third bite, he motioned with his fork to Phlox, "This is good. Want any?"

Phlox was not a vegetarian, but looked distastefully at the blood dripping from the meat and Archer ravishing it. "No, thank you." Archer began devouring it, making yummy sounds.

Phlox began speaking again. "As I was saying ...no, I don't think two days is enough time."

Archer shook his head and winked. "I don't really either." He bit into his steak. "So what's the appropriate thing to do?"

"Coming to an understanding with T'Pol might be a good start. For example, perhaps you need some ground rules on when she uses your first name," said the doctor.

He snorted. "Good example. Really pissed me off today when she called me Jon." He was talking with his mouth open, something he never did.

Phlox looked uneasily at the captain's open mouth. "Other ground rules might include whether you decide to be friends."

Archer stopped chewing and swallowed the remainder of food in a large gulp. He took a swig of his martini to help wash it down. "We may not be friends again?" he coughed out.

"Perhaps not. I think that's something for you to talk about and decide," he said.

Archer hadn't considered that. In fact, a large part of him thought tomorrow everything would go back to exactly how it was almost only two days ago - before he made love to T'Pol.

Phlox could tell those particular words weighed heavily on Archer. He saw the captain stop eating and take another large swallow from his glass.

Archer's mood turned somber and he realized he wasn't terribly hungry. He pushed his plate back. With a clarity in his voice, he continued. "Any other ground rules you would suggest?"

"She may want to transfer. I would consider it if I were you," he said.

Archer was absolutely beside himself. He put his head in his hands. "Do you really think she'll do that? And what will I tell the Vulcans? Or, Admiral Forrest?" he asked. He suddenly felt sick; his stomach was in knots and it didn't sit well with the number of drinks he'd sucked down.

"I didn't say she would ask for a transfer, but she might," said Phlox.

Archer's mind raced down that path. His head was hanging heavily in his hands. "I can't imagine telling Ambassador Soval that I'd taken advantage of a young, beautiful Vulcan in my custody. A Vulcan he'd entrusted me with." He looked up. "Would her people even want her back? God, what if I screwed it up so she could never return to her home?" The thought made him ill. He tried to settle his stomach by breathing deeply.

"Firstly, you did not take advantage of her. You helped her. In point of fact, you saved her life. I doubt the Vulcans would fault you for that," explained Phlox. "Secondly, she knew the decision she was making. And thirdly, I'm sure if she wanted to, she could return home at any point."

"They probably have developed a sensor that determines whether humans have contaminated them. I'm sure they could even trace it back to who the dirty culprit was. I'm sure they wouldn't be surprised to see Jonathan Archer's name flashing in bright lights."

Phlox scoffed, "Now you're just being ridiculous." 

"I've seen weirder shit from the Vulcans. I'm sure when Admiral Forrest finds out he'd have my ass. I'd be drummed out of Starfleet," he said. "Generations later, people would know the name Archer, not for building the first warp two engine, but for disgracing a young beautiful, intelligent Vulcan who was shunned by her own people for her involvement with him. You know like Benedict Arnold is synonymous with traitor and Hitler means evil? Archer would mean contaminator."

"Oh, come on," said Phlox.

"Why did I ever do this? What was I thinking? How could I disrespect her that way?" He shoved his hand through his hair. "How could I take advantage of my position like that? Of course she'd turn to me - I'm the captain. Everyone turns to me." He sighed. "I let my feelings for her get in the way."

Phlox shook his head. "She knew what she was doing."

"Who else would she have chosen?"

Phlox remained silent.

"No wonder she doesn't want anything to do with me now. I'm sure I must disgust her." He shook his head. "What a fool I've been. I couldn't let her be with another man." He scratched his head. "I shouldn't have given into my feelings. I'm the captain. I should be above that." He drank the remainder of his martini in one sip.

"She obviously trusted in you for a reason, and I don't think it is merely because you are the captain," he said. 

"I'm not so sure,"

"I think you should have this conversation with T'Pol, and soon. I think things will work out." Phlox smiled. "Optimism!" he sang out.

Archer rolled his eyes. He wanted to punch the optimism right out of his physician, but held back. He stumbled up to make himself another drink.

Phlox didn't want to see the captain do any further damage to his liver or brain. But, rather than speak up, he decided to leave and let the man continue. He got up and walked toward the door. Archer sauntered over and sloppily walked him out. As the door swished shut, Archer leaned against it. 

He barely made it to his bed before passing out.

Chapter Five 

­­When T'Pol arrived in her quarters, she felt exhausted. The constant bombardment of emotions had only increased. She could sense almost all of Archer's thoughts; he was not skilled in how to hide them from her view. She knew he was in his room at this moment brooding, although his mind felt hazy. 

She decided against eating dinner. Her encounter with Commander Tucker left her feeling embarrassed. Besides, she thought perhaps Captain Archer would confide in him and cause her further discomfort.

She also had been unable to push down her own feelings. She replayed the conversation about her being wrong about humans in many cases. Perhaps she was, but he refused to see the truth. As long as she served aboard Enterprise, there could never be anything more with Jon. A relationship with him was illogical.

She lit some incense and waved it around her room, filling the space with an aroma of rlyhpa - a Vulcan spice that she thought seemed a little like Earth's nutmeg. After she smudged the room, she lit a candle and sat in front of her meditation area to gather her thoughts about the event.

She focused on the single point - the flame. She let her emotions and feelings run through her, trying to ignore them. She focused on the light. She let herself be one with it.

Her mind began to drift. She thought of the candles in Archer's room their last night together. She remembered his burning gaze as he stripped for her. She remembered feeling an excited anxiety as he unzipped his uniform. His eyes seared her flesh, as he slowly removed his uniform. He exposed his muscular chest and then removed his undergarments. He stood naked in front of her. His mind was just as naked - revealing thoughts to her she did not know he was capable of thinking. Although she was unclothed, she hid many thoughts from him. 

She thought about how he walked to her slowly, drawing her into an embrace. She wanted to go wild with passion, but was afraid to lose control. She wanted to take over their encounter, but didn't want to show him how she craved him. 

She wanted to kiss him, parting his lips with her tongue. She wanted to take the cleft of his chin in her teeth. She wanted to entwine her fingers in his chestnut hair. She wanted to stroke his muscular chest, and run her hands through its down-like hair. She wanted to dip her lips into his navel. She wanted to kiss up his hairy legs. She wanted to let her mouth explore his entire body and dig her nails into his flesh. She wanted to gather him against her with her Vulcan strength. She wanted to feel him. She longed to see the look of pleasure on his face. 

She gasped. Only a trace of her symptoms remained - not enough to warrant this level of desire and certainly not enough to be any danger. She realized her hand was trembling as she held it to her cheek. She could not go to him for help. She bit her lip and tried to think about the flame.

'What if we have already bonded?' she asked herself. She quivered. Vulcan scientists proved that mind melds with non-telepathic species did not last. But, she still felt him in her mind. In fact, she felt his thoughts came more easily than before.

"Impossible," she said aloud. She was certain she was imagining it. And yet she heard his voice, becoming clearer, almost as if he was talking with her. 

She thought again of him being naked and exposed. He put such trust in her.

'How could I be so selfish, only thinking of my needs?' She reminded herself that although they made love several times that night, she needed only one embrace to reduce her fever. Just as quickly, she guffawed at her own audacity - she had enjoyed it as much, if not more, than he did. She had not understood that Pon Farr would be so ...enjoyable and thought perhaps it was because of him it was so thrilling. Jon had focused on satisfying her desire, rather than his own. Vulcan males were mostly looking to reduce their own blood fever, giving little care to the female. She'd heard Pon Farr was painful and frightening, rather than sensual and exhilarating.

He had given himself to her completely, meeting her needs so utterly. His mind was so open. Even now her thoughts were hidden from his view, but his were clear and available. His thoughts were there, even though he knew how to hide some of them. She repaid him with pain and heartbreak, subterfuge and deception. She hung her head against her chest.

Perhaps she would go and talk tonight or tomorrow. She shook her head stubbornly. 'No matter how I feel, the end result is the same - we cannot have a relationship. He would face a court martial, and I do not wish that to happen.' She bit her lip. 'He would be disgraced by his people, and I cannot allow him to make further sacrifices.'

She could not tell him. Just as she could not tell him that she needed him, wanted him. It was for his own good. She was looking out for his best interests. He need not know that she may never be able to form a bond with anyone other than him. That thought she would keep silent.

Something crept into her mind, a thought from Jon. 'What if we can no longer be friends?' She knew this surface thought also troubled him.

She had come to value her friendship with him above all things, even more than their romantic relationship, which she treasured. 

She blew out the candle and decided to go to bed early. As she put her head on her pillow, she thought of how Jon had encircled her in his arms as he slept. She also thought of his tiny and loud snores. She closed her eyes.

Chapter Six 

True to his word, Tucker headed over to Archer's door. Trip rang the chime. He heard some cursing, things being knocked over and a thud as the door as it swished open.

"What the hell happened to you?" asked Trip. Archer's hair was standing on end, his eyes were bleary and he looked pale.

He coughed into his hand and winced. "I took your advice," Archer said huskily. His head was pounding and he felt sick to his stomach.

Trip walked in. "You didn't drink this did you?" he asked, picking up the empty bottle of Vodka. 

"Well, about half of it," he said. He was glad it was only half-full when he started. In his state of mind, he would've tried to polish off the whole thing.

Trip shook his head. "Amateurs." He headed for Archer's alcohol cabinet and fixed a martini.

Archer shook his head. "I think a martini is the last thing I need." His stomach lurched. He covered his hand to his mouth and ran stumbling toward the bathroom.

Tucker smiled. "You'll thank me tomorrow." He took a sip of the martini he made. He began concocting something else.

After a few minutes Archer flushed the toilet and rinsed his mouth out with water. He splashed cold water over his face and through his hair. He reappeared and tip toed over to a chair. He coughed, grabbing his head.

Trip shook his head. "Drink this." He gave Archer something that looked like orange juice. He raised it to his nose and recoiled at the smell.

"Little hair of the dog, plus a few extras that'll keep you from having a hangover tomorrow."

Archer wanted to resist, but what the hell. He was already doomed. He drank the mixture and began to feel better. His buzz came back swiftly and the pounding in his head was muffled.

"It's best if you drink it quickly."

Archer nodded and drained the glass. 

Trip looked surprised. "Uhm, not that quickly." He took the glass from Archer's hand.

Archer felt the pounding in his head significantly subside. He also felt warm.

Trip made another one. "You better drink this one, too. But, sip this one will ya?" He handed him the new drink and sat down.

"Should I ask what's in this?" asked Archer, sipping the drink. 

"No," said Trip.

Archer sipped the drink. "Did you go see the movie tonight?"

"Nope. The name of tonight's movie was _Love, Death and Crying_. A French foreign film."

Archer winced. 

Trip nodded. "Hoshi's taking this movie committee responsibility seriously. She's already invited other women to be on the committee and has come up with a romantic movie schedule that has half of the guys aboard the ship up in arms."

Archer laughed.

"I'd hold that chuckle if I were you. Next Friday - they've got a musical lined up."

Archer acted as if he didn't like them. "Which one?"

"Something like Westmore story."

"Westside Story?" asked Archer.

Trip looked askance. "I think so."

Archer lied, "Had an ex-girlfriend who liked that kind of stuff. Well, it is fair to have one day devoted to musicals and love stories, since you've set up Saturdays as the day to show creature feature films."

"But everyone likes movies like _Frankenstein _and _Creature of the Black Lagoon_," retorted Trip.

Archer shook his head. "Not everyone, Trip."

"You're not telling me you don't like them?"

"Do I have to?" asked Archer. He sipped his drink.

"Well, what movie would you want to see?" asked Trip. "A movie about sports?"

Archer smiled. "I like other movies, too. What about the remake of Star Wars?" he asked. "That was a great movie."

Trip shook his head. "Have you ever seen the original?" 

Archer nodded. "My introduction to film teacher loved 20th century science fiction films." He paused. "The special effects for the original were awful."

"To each his own," said Trip. He noticed Archer had downed most of the drink.

Archer began to feel numb again.

"Have anything you want to talk about?" asked Trip. He handed Archer another drink, but was much easier on the alcohol.

"Yeah, so why don't you convince Hoshi to compromise on movies?" asked Archer.

"I meant about T'Pol?" asked Trip. 

"You asked me _anything_ I wanted to talk about."

Trip sighed. "Cap'n, that woman is as stubborn as the day is long. I've been buttering her up for weeks. Nothing." 

"Offering to fix the tweaks at the communications console wasn't what I was implying," said Archer.

Trip raised his eyebrows as he drank his martini. "Now, hold up. Sure, she's cute and all. But ...I can't see us together. I mean, I don't think she really likes me."

Archer shook his head. "Are you kidding me?"

Trip leaned in. "You know something?" His heart was pounding.

Archer smiled. "Enough to know that you should invite her to talk about the movie listing in the captain's dining room. Just the two of you." 

Trip smiled. "I just might take you up on that."

Archer grinned. "Good."

"Well," he drained the last of the martini. "I better get going."

"Thanks," said Archer.

Trip stood up and walked to the door. "Am I going to see you at breakfast tomorrow?"

"I don't think so," he explained. He thought maybe T'Pol would show up. He also thought he might be too hung over to make it.

Trip nodded. "Good night, Cap'n. Get some rest."

Archer grabbed his drink, turned off the lights and lay in bed, thinking. He thought of T'Pol letting him know there couldn't be more between them, even before her Pon Farr symptoms had vanished. He wondered whether she was disgusted to have his hands on her. Although it seemed she was eager, she did not completely reciprocate his caresses. He'd chalked that up to her inexperience, especially with a human, but maybe he was saving his ego. 

She definitely didn't explore his body with her hands or mouth the way he did hers. He thought her body was lithe and gorgeous. He found the green coloring and lack of body hair made her more beautiful.

He wiped his hand over his face. His pink hairy body must've really been frightening. He snorted - a mixture of laughter and contempt.

He closed his eyes, comforting himself - he'd taken a risk to be with her and it was worth taking, despite the outcome and how he felt now.

Chapter Seven 

T'Pol walked into the mess hall at 0710, ten minutes late for her breakfast with Hoshi. She could sense the last of Archer's thoughts while she slept. He thought he revolted her. Anything could be further from the truth. But, she couldn't tell him. She couldn't let him know she found him pleasing ...desirable.

She walked in as Hoshi waved her over to sit at her table.

T'Pol filled her cup with hot tea with drank deeply, walking over.

Hoshi smiled. "Good morning," she said.

"Hello," said T'Pol. She sat down.

"Did you see the captain today?" she asked. She could tell the confusion on T'Pol's face and clarified. "I mean - is he feeling better?"

T'Pol shook her head. "I have not seen Captain Archer today. I do not know of his condition."

Hoshi got up and stood in line for her food, motioning T'Pol follow her. The first officer looked around; she was out of her element. She rarely ate with the crew.

As Hoshi waited in line for a cold bowl of cereal, she asked rhetorically. "I wonder what's wrong with him?"

"Hmmmm," said T'Pol absently. She chose a grain bar. 

"Yesterday, you said he was upset with you. Does it have something to do with his illness?"

T'Pol drank her tea. "Possibly." 

Hoshi corrected herself. This was going to be much harder than she thought. "If you don't want to talk about it that's okay," she said hoping to trump her.

T'Pol nodded. "I ...appreciate that sentiment, Ensign."

Hoshi shook her head and dug into her cereal. "Did you go to the movie last night?"

"I did not realize there was one playing. What was the name?" asked T'Pol.

"It's a great one - _Love, Death and Crying_ ...the 2050 classic of a man who loved a woman," said Hoshi. "She was unable to return his love and he committed suicide."

T'Pol dropped her mouth. "The premise of the movie sounds extremely ...depressing."

Hoshi nodded. "Sad, but beautiful. It's French."

"Beautiful?"

Hoshi sighed, "Even things that are unpleasant can be beautiful."

"I find the thought ...disturbing," said T'Pol.

Hoshi giggled. "Much of Earth's great literature includes sacrifice people make for love - _Wuthering Heights_, _The Scarlet Letter_, _Romeo and Juliet_, _Much Ado About Nothing_. I could go on."

T'Pol stabbed her grain bar, cutting into it. "I find it illogical."

"My point is that love and unrequited love is one of the deepest feelings humans have, T'Pol. And with love comes sacrifice, including self-sacrifice." She dug into her cereal. "Our entire history is based on this idea. In fact, many of our religions are funded on the principle of sacrifice - Christianity, Judaism, Buddhism and many others." She ate eagerly. "I guess that's why so many art forms draw upon this experience."

T'Pol's eyebrows knotted together and her lips seem to draw down. "I wish to talk about something else, if you please." She paused, not knowing what to say to the ensign. "I would be ...happy to show you how to work the science station if you are interested."

"That'd be great," said Hoshi. "I'm not very technically minded."

"I think you are incorrect. Your ability to quickly and efficiently learn languages provides an eye for detail. That is all you need to understand the mechanics."

"Want to meet tomorrow morning? 1000?" asked Hoshi.

"That time is agreeable."

"Good." Hoshi decided to push the conversation. "What do you find disturbing about sacrifice?"

T'Pol seemed to sigh and put down her utensil. "I do not find sacrifice in general disturbing. Surak taught sacrifice as he asked the Vulcans to seek and teach logic. Those who did not wish him to spread this message killed him. He knew his death was imminent, but ... felt ...strongly in his cause."

Hoshi furrowed her eyebrows. "Did I miss something? If you aren't bothered by this concept, then why don't you want to talk about it?"

T'Pol bit her lip. "It is ...personal."

Hoshi knew she hit a nerve. "Okay." She noticed T'Pol had stopped eating breakfast. "I'm sorry, T'Pol. I didn't mean to upset you."

T'Pol nodded. "I do not feel upset, but do feel ...unsettled. However, it is not your fault." 

To Hoshi she was agreeing that she was upset; T'Pol usually denied feeling anything. "Is there something I can do to help?"

She cocked her eyebrow. "Not at this time, but I appreciate the offer."

Hoshi leaned in, so no one could hear except the Vulcan. "Let me know if you need any advice about the captain."

T'Pol was stunned, but wasn't sure whether the ensign had figured out her affair with him, or was insinuating something else. Hoshi continued in her normal voice. "I have to go to work. Let me know if you change your mind." She waved. "See you tomorrow at 1000."

Chapter Eight 

Archer woke up to possibly the worst hangover he'd ever had. He corrected himself - he'd had worse. But, this was definitely the worst hangover he'd had in years. He thought about not drinking ever again and then thought about Tucker promising that a little hair of the dog would make him feel better. The idea of pouring a Vodka martini made him cringe. He made a beeline for the bathroom.

The door chimed as the steward called out, "Breakfast, sir."

Archer barely yelled, "Thanks ...go ahead and leave it in the hall," before turning back to the toilet and emptying his stomach.

He stood, wobbly, and walked toward the mirror. He hardly recognized the guy staring back. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair was sticking straight up and his face was red. He also noticed he was still wearing what he had on last night - a stained white T-Shirt and baggy navy pants. 

He shuffled out slowly and walked to his closet to change shirts.

He opened the door and took the tray. The smell of food was making him nauseous. He set it on the table and ran back to the bathroom to vomit.

The door chimed again. Archer rinsed his mouth out as he heard Phlox's muffled voice. He answered the doctor. Phlox was there with a small medical bag. Archer put his hand out, signaling the doctor to enter.

"How are you feeling this morning?" asked Phlox.

Archer took a deep breath. He shook his head, but very slowly. Phlox could tell just by looking at him that he had a significant hangover.

"I came over to give you a remedy, if you'd like it," said Phlox.

Archer nodded, but not quickly. He strained his neck out as Phlox jabbed his neck with a hypospray.

"You're not going to run any marathons, but you'll feel better," explained Phlox.

"I already do," confirmed Archer. His head didn't feel sluggish and breakfast actually sounded okay.

"I hope you're not going to damage your liver and brain cells again tonight," warned Phlox.

Archer screwed up his face. "No."

Phlox smiled. "Good." He paused looking at the captain. "Feel free to stop by if you want to discuss anything. I'll be there all day. That is, if you want."

Archer smiled. "Thanks, Doc. I know where you are."

Phlox grabbed his medical bag and duck-walked out the door. 

Archer sat down at the table and drank his orange juice with incredible thirst. He dug into his eggs and thought about what he'd do today. He could go running later, although he wasn't sure if his body was able to rebound that quickly.

He thought he'd just read and listen to music. He decided to eat and then take a shower.

Chapter Nine 

T'Pol finished her breakfast in the deserted mess hall. Phlox walked in with his medical bag and saw the first officer. She looked away hoping he would stop at another table. Phlox grabbed a glass of milk and a tray and sat down with her. 

"Ahhh, Sub commander T'Pol," he said, smiling.

"Yes," she said. 

Phlox began to eat a continental breakfast - complete with fruit and a danish. "I love danishes," he said with joy. He crammed one in his face. "Mmmmmmm…."

T'Pol began to stand up. 

"Are you going to the creature feature tonight?" he asked. "It's Bride of Frankenstein."

T'Pol froze. She shook her head. "I did not realize they were playing two movies for each night - one on Friday and one on Saturday."

Phlox nodded. "Apparently the ladies aboard this ship want a romantic movie and the guys want a horror film."

"No, I do not believe I will attend the movie tonight," said T'Pol. She was uninterested in who wanted to see what or why.

"Might be good for you," he suggested. 

She raised her eyebrow as if to answer his question.

Phlox looked around glad no one else was in the mess hall. "Your relationship with Captain Archer has taken care of your Pon Farr?" he asked. 

She looked uncomfortable. 'How many people knew about their relationship?' she asked herself.

"You have not visited sickbay since that encounter, as I'd asked you to do," said Phlox.

She looked around surprised at his lack of candor. "Yes," she responded quietly. "I am no longer suffering from the symptoms." She paused. "I have not seen you because there has been little time."

"I understand that the captain has taken the relationship differently than you," he said.

She seemed vexed. "That is none of your concern, Doctor. But, yes, Jon has taken the relationship differently."

Phlox smiled. "During your earliest symptoms, you indicated you would have a mental link with whomever helped you through your mating cycle?"

T'Pol sighed. "Yes."

"Have you established this link with Archer?" he asked.

She sipped her tea. "Yes."

Phlox thought getting information out of a Vulcan was extremely difficult. "Have you maintained this link?" he asked.

She shifted in her seat. "Yes."

He looked surprised. "You said it was doubtful you could maintain this level of ... intimacy with a human."

"Vulcan scientists proved that with non-telepathic species chances were more remote that a mental link could be established or maintained." She corrected herself. "It was proven until this incident that is."

Phlox smiled. He drank his glass of milk. "Do you think this would be true of all humans, or just Archer?" he asked.

She sipped her tea. "Unknown."

"If there were no regulations, how would you feel about Captain Archer?" he asked. He knew he was taking a risk, but decided to push forward.

She considered the question. "I would consider him a friend. Although, I am concerned that possibility is becoming more remote," she murmured. 

Phlox jerked his shoulders. "Why do you say that?"

"He wants to continue, and I think going into a relationship would be unwise," she said.

"So, you do you have feelings for him," clarified Phlox.

"_If _I had feelings, they would be irrelevant," she concluded.

"Irrelevant to whom?" he asked.

"It does no good to continue with this conversation. The end result must always be the same."

"Really? What is the end result?" he asked.

"The end result is that Captain Archer will be unable to continue a relationship with me," she insisted.

"Sounds like you may be making a decision for him," he said. 

"I am simply providing the correct course of action for both of us," she indicated.

"Doesn't he get a choice?" he asked.

She was becoming irritated with the doctor. "Your argument is without merit. Jon and I have already spoken about this and have come to an understanding."

"This is the second time you've called Captain Archer by his first name."

She stood up. "This is pointless." She took her tea and began to walk out.

Phlox called after her. "Pointless because I'm right. You don't even report to Starfleet. You have little to worry about." She stopped at the door, hearing the last argument and filed out.

T'Pol was angry. She walked tight-fisted back to her cabin. As soon as she entered, she felt like kicking something. Instead she decided to go to the gym and work out her frustrations. She promised herself that immediately afterward, she would meditate.

Chapter Ten 

Archer laughed at Beatrice and Benedick and their relationship. Something about it rang true. He sighed. The door chimed and he put down his book.

"Good morning, Cap'n," said Trip with a grin. He had a basketball on his hip.

Archer smiled. "What are you doing here?"

"I have the day off. I thought I'd see if you wanted to go to the gym with me. I thought we could play a little one on one basketball." He sauntered in pre-occupied with the ball.

Archer shook his head. "Phlox came by to relieve my hangover, but I still don't feel up to snuff."

Trip smirked at him and faked throwing the ball to watch Archer flinch. "Do I have to call you a 'sissy,' to get you to come with me?"

Archer rolled his eyes.

Trip continued, "'Member that time ...it was right after you found out you were going to be the captain of the Enterprise. We drank until 3 a.m., then got up at 7 a.m. the next morning for a forty mile bike ride."

Archer nodded. "I remember - it was awful."

Trip grinned thinking how sick they both were. "Come on, Jon," egged on Trip. "Unless, you're afraid of my skills."

Archer shook his head. "Yeah, I'm afraid of a guy under six foot," chided Archer. He stood up straight, showing Trip who was taller.

"And several years younger," Trip retorted.

Archer laughed. "More than several. Okay," he acquiesced. "Let me change into some shorts."

Trip nodded. "Good man."

"What else you got planned for today, Jon?" 

"Don't know. Thought maybe I'd read some more." He grabbed some shorts.

"You could go to the creature feature tonight - _Bride of Frankenstein_. Should be a good one," said Trip. Commander Tucker bounced the ball around his apartment, practicing his shot, letting the ball roll off his fingertips as Jon changed. 

"No, thanks," said Archer.

"I just wanted to warn you - I've been practicing against Mayweather," bragged Trip.

Archer scowled. Mayweather was taller and a better shot. "Practiced since the last time I beat you?" he goaded. He laced up his tennis shoes and stretched.

"We'll see who can put up, and who has to shut up," said Trip bouncing the ball off Archer's back, as he swatted it away.

Archer laughed and walked out. "Let's go."

Chapter Eleven 

As they made it into the gym, they saw a female Vulcan, practicing martial arts. Trip looked at Archer and whispered. "We can leave if you wanna."

Archer tried not to look at her in detail, although her grace was breathtaking. Since she was already deep in her movements, he decided not to say anything, not even "hello." 

"No," stated Archer. He walked over to the computer and said, "One-on-one basketball. Half-court. NBA regulation height goal."

The gym began to distort as gears dropped down a regulation basketball net on one side. Archer beamed and beckoned for the ball to be thrown to him.

Tucker threw it and Archer caught it, dribbling it around. He took a practice shot and smiled smugly that it went it in with a swish.

Trip's mouth dropped. "Lucky shot." He went up for a lay-up and missed. Archer went up for the same lay-up and made it with ease.

"I think I'm in trouble," said Trip.

"Oh, I know you are," said Archer smiling.

The two men began to play one-on-one as Archer managed to block the first shot that Trip took. However, he couldn't deliver to the hoop. Trip rebounded and headed for the half-court marking. He faked left and dribbled in. Archer managed to cut in for a steal and delivered a shot off the backboard. He looked over at T'Pol who looked like she was dancing. 

"Over here, Cap'n," said Tucker, waving the ball around.

"I'm here," said Archer guarding him.

T'Pol looked over at the grown men acting like boys, throwing a small orange ball around. 

She continued to practice her moves, as if their presence did not bother her. She knew Jon was annoyed at seeing her. She sighed. She tried to clear her mind, especially from his thoughts and pushed out her hand out in slow motion. She swept her leg out into a slow graceful kick, flicking the end of her bare foot. She felt like she was floating in the middle of a lake.

As she continued, she began to speed up the moves. Kicking her leg into the air, shifting her arms, crouching and springing. Her mind was focused, despite hearing his thoughts.

After keeping this up for twenty more minutes she stopped. She went over to grab her towel, noticing she was perspiring. As she put her towel around her neck, she looked over at Archer's physique and smiled on the inside. 'Jon has nice legs,' she thought. 

Only too late did she realize she projected a surface thought to Archer. Jon was at the baseline holding the ball. He heard the compliment as if she'd said it aloud to him. Suddenly distracted, he looked over at her and froze. Tucker went in to foul him. Trip expected Archer to dodge out of the way or put up some resistance, instead Archer went down like a rocket as Trip collided into him. 

Tucker's head squarely knocked him in the nose and his shoulder smashed into Archer ribcage, knocking the wind out of him. Archer had also hit his head on the floor with a loud thud. Archer groaned as blood ran freely down his nose. 

Tucker felt surprisingly well. He launched to his feet and decided to take advantage of his friend lying on the deck. He went up and made an easy basket. 

As Archer held his nose as he looked up. "Uhm, you're not going to count that are you?"

Tucker started strutting behind the basket. He grinned at his friend. "Come on, six to two."

Archer corrected, "Six to zero."

"I called no fouls before the game," said Tucker. "Six to two."

Archer scratched his head. "All right. Six to two." Archer's nose was still bleeding. He looked up at the ceiling, irritated. He hoped it would stop soon. After about a minute and a few more jump shots from Trip, Archer realized it was going to be much harder to stop the flow of blood. "Trip, could you get a towel?" Blood had started to trickle down his chin.

"I guess that's the least I can do," said Trip.

T'Pol looked over with some concern and walked over. "You may have mine," she said crouching down to Archer and holding out her towel.

Archer still holding his head up knew she would offer it. He sighed, "Thanks, T'Pol." He covered his nose and held it. 

She put her hands over his. "It might help, if you held it this way." She corrected his hands and held them for a few seconds, pinching his nose.

"I got it," he said moving his hands slightly away from hers.

Trip watched the two thinking perhaps he should give them a moment alone. He coughed. "I'll go get some ice for you."

Archer protested as T'Pol nodded. "Excellent idea," she said.

Archer glared at Trip as he scurried out.

"May I see your wound?" T'Pol asked putting her hands over his.

He held his hand on his nose. "Listen, T'Pol, I don't really want to talk. I feel fine. Just ...let me get on with the game."

She gently moved his hand back and noticed his eyes were already turning a light shade of purple. "I am ...glad that Commander Tucker is retrieving ice for you."

He nodded. He wanted to be left alone, yet she continued to hang around like a nursemaid. 

She wiped the blood from his face, careful not to touch his nose.

"Quit," he snapped. He grabbed the towel away from her.

Her face flushed. 

"What do you want from me?" he asked. It bothered him that she knew all of his thoughts. He knew he was an open book. He wanted to hide some of the things in his brain, but had already given them to her. What purpose would it serve to sequester them now?

"I do not know," she said. She knew he was incredibly confused. And he knew she was equally confused.

He stood up. "Tell Trip I'll be in my cabin," he said. He held his head back as he walked out the door.

"Captain, I would like to have dinner with you," she called out, hoping her voice would reach him.

Archer stopped in his tracks and turned around. He had never known his science officer to raise her voice. Ever. 

"1800 in my quarters," she said.

He scowled.

"I would like to discuss things we are both thinking of - whether we continue as friends ...and whether I transfer," she clarified.

He nodded. "Okay. I'll meet you there."

T'Pol nodded. "Thank you, sir."

He shook his head. Captain, Jon, sir. He was totally confused.

T'Pol stood watching after the door. She began gathering up her belongings, including the towel she'd lent Jon when Trip walked in. 

"Where's Jon?" he asked, holding a large bag of ice.

"He has returned to his cabin," she explained.

Trip folded his arms. "T'Pol, I'm only saying this because Jon is my friend."

She raised her eyebrow.

"Take it easy on him."

"I do not understand," she replied.

"I'm pretty sure in your mind, you've chosen the most logical path. And, I'm pretty sure you'd like that path to include Jon, but for whatever reason, you've blown him off," clarified. "Take it easy him, he's only human. He's bound to feel all mixed up and illogical."

T'Pol raised both eyebrows. "Commander Tucker, I assure you …."

"Just ... just go easy on him," Trip said as he threw the bag of ice to her and walked out the door.

Chapter Twelve 

Archer decided to stop by sickbay on the way back to his cabin. His head hurt and he was having difficulty breathing out of his nose.

As soon as Archer walked in, Phlox turned to him. "Which sport was it this time?"

"Basketball." Archer squinted. "How did you know?"

He touched Archer's nose, causing him to jump. "Lucky guess." Phlox pointed to the biobed, as Archer lifted himself onto it. Mayweather, Tucker and Archer were his most frequent patients - all had an eagerness for sports ...and sports-related injuries. 

Phlox continued, "The swelling has just begun. I think a couple of things will help." He jabbed Archer with a hypospray. Archer felt a little woozy.

Phlox touched the purple circles beginning to form underneath Archer's eyes. "This hurt?"

Archer winced only slightly. "Not much." He began to massage his neck with his hand.

Phlox waddled over to his medical area and put something together. "See Sub commander T'Pol at the gym?"

Archer looked stunned, letting his hand drop. "Another lucky guess?"

"Your tension." Phlox held a nasal spray out. "This might help with you nose. Breathe it in."

Archer shrugged and squeezed the contents into his nose. His head felt light, but he was able to breathe. He also noticed the pain in his nose and under his eyes was gone.

"Better?" asked Phlox.

Archer nodded. "Much. Thanks, Doc." He began to pull himself off the biobed, when Phlox spoke again.

"Wait, before you go ...T'Pol may has initiated a mental link with you. Are you able to hear her thoughts?" asked Phlox.

Archer bit the inside of his cheek. "Yes." 

Phlox nodded and waved a medical scanner in front of him. "Are they more intense now than before?"

Archer nodded. "Yes, they're definitely more intense now."

Phlox nodded. "I see. Hmmmm …." He walked over and checked Archer's medical records.

"Captain, has anyone in your family had telepathy?" asked Phlox.

Archer looked at him like he was crazy. "Not that I'm aware of."

"This link you have with T'Pol ...can you describe it?"

He sighed. "I hear her voice inside my head. Sometimes it sounds faint like a whisper and sometimes it seems clear - as clear as you're talking with me now. I also feel like sometimes there's a wall there ...something that's muffling her voice." 

Phlox nodded. "Ahhhh."

"I've been wondering whether it will eventually dissipate, but her voice seems to be getting louder."

"What do you mean?" asked Phlox.

"Most of her thoughts have gone from a whisper to something I've been able to hear clearly."

"What if this bond between you lasted longer, Captain?" the doctor asked.

"You mean if I was able to hear her thoughts?" he asked.

"Yes. What if you were able to hear her thoughts for sometime."

"How long is sometime?" he asked, shifting.

"Permanently," clarified Phlox.

"Is there a chance of that?" asked Archer with concern.

"Yes," he said.

Archer shook his head. "How big a chance of that?"

Phlox folded his arms across his chest. "Although the Vulcans do not have much information about this type of connection, there is some information. Did T'Pol share with you that Vulcans mate for life?" he asked.

Archer looked up with shock.

"I see," said Phlox. "It appears Vulcans mostly mate with someone that they are betrothed to, and most Vulcans are engaged at an early age."

"Is T'Pol engaged?" he asked.

"I don't know. I doubt it," he answered. "If she were, it seems you would be unable to ...satisfy her," he said.

"Then, why didn't she tell me any of this?" asked Archer.

"I don't know. But, it would appear that if her voice is growing louder, perhaps you two are ...matched."

"I may be …?"

"Her lifemate, Captain," he said as Archer began to understand the implications. "She may be unable to select another." He paused. "I thought I would prepare you for that eventuality."

Archer had a sinking feeling that his time with T'Pol was her first sexual encounter, although she had discussed it with him. He began to wonder whether their time together was her first romantic encounter ever; even kissing at first seemed foreign to her. For as many thoughts as they shared, he had difficulty gathering this kind of information from her. His stomach flipped and then flopped.

Archer had to think about things and get ready for dinner in a short amount of time. "Why didn't she tell me?" he asked again confused.

Phlox shrugged. "I believe she was looking out for what she assumed were your best interests. She probably wanted to ensure you weren't drummed out of Starfleet and were able to continue on with your duties." The doctor paused. "You expressed some of those concerns yourself."

Archer rubbed the back of his neck. "She doesn't have to protect me," he said quietly.

Phlox nodded. "Love will make you do strange things."

"Love?" he asked. "Isn't that an emotion?"

Phlox smiled. "I think you know better than me whether T'Pol feels emotion."

He nodded with a smile. "Okay, but I can't really tells how she feels about _me_," said Archer. "I think she's been hiding her feelings from me." 

Phlox nodded. "Do you think she'd share with you that she cared for you deeply, if she wanted to protect you?"

"Probably not," said Archer. He sighed. He lifted himself from the biobed. "Thanks, Doc. I owe you one," said the captain patting the physician on the arm.

Phlox watched as the captain walked out. He thought perhaps the captain would initiate some action. He breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't every day he fixed up couples that didn't want to admit how head over heels they were for each other. Vulcans and Humans were annoying that way.

He snorted. "They're almost as bad as Ensign Sato and Commander Tucker." He smiled. 

Chapter Thirteen 

Archer walked back to his cabin and opened the door. He had to take a quick shower and get ready. He felt he had lots of things to think about, especially given the new information. He thought about how much she was willing to sacrifice in order to protect him. 'Vulcans can be so illogical,' he thought.

He started to feel better about things. As he stepped into the shower, he remembered how she'd noted his legs. He smiled - he supposed his pink, hairy body wasn't so bad after all.

After his shower he put on a button-down, collarless white linen shirt and khaki pants, he petted Porthos and expelled air from his lungs. 

He looked down at his beagle. "I guess this is it." His beagle kissed the back of his hand.

He walked out the door and down the hall to T'Pol's room. His stomach was turning. He wasn't sure he'd be able to eat. As he walked in, he saw her wearing the same black Vulcan robe she wore their last night together. His face exploded into a smile.

"You look stunning," he said.

"Captain, please have a seat," she said. She motioned to one of the chairs.

He looked at the table and noticed that she had arranged some of his favorites, including a lasagna dish. He nodded and sat down.

"Your nose seems to have healed," she remarked. She could not distinguish any swelling or purple rings around his eyes, as she had earlier

He smiled more. "Yes. Although your comments about me were distracting." 

She ignored his comment. "Captain, I have noticed that you are concerned that you and I will not remain friends or I will transfer," she said. "I wanted to discuss this and a few other things with you about our working relationship since we are both back to work tomorrow."

"I thought you wanted me to think about things," he said.

"I thought you did not want to discuss this," she countered.

"Okay, T'Pol," he said. He looked at her and put his hands on hers. "First, answer me this - do Vulcans mate for life?"

T'Pol stiffened. "Most do, yes."

"Most?" He noted she was thinking almost all Vulcans mate for life. She didn't know any Vulcan who had not. He nodded. "I don't want us to be friends, T'Pol." He left his hands on hers.

She looked up him with confusion. "I do not wish to transfer ...."

He smiled. "I don't want you to transfer either." He showed two fingers palm up.

She looked at him. "We have been over this. It is impossible to …." She let her voice trail off.

He left his two fingers palm up. "Don't protect me," he said. "I don't want it, and I don't need it."

"Starfleet regulations say …."

He leaned forward, leaving his two fingers up. "Were you willing to sacrifice your happiness for me? Why would you do that?"

She looked down. "I do not know what you are speaking of."

He continued, "I know there are consequences to my feelings for you. But, I am prepared to deal with them - whatever they may be." 

"Your people would never accept us," she said softly almost so he couldn't hear.

"I don't give a damn. I care about us." He guided her hand along to his, making the Vulcan sign of a kiss. The hair on the back of his neck stood up. 

"You may lose your command," she stated. She didn't withdraw her hand. 

"I'm willing to take that risk," he stated. 

"Your father's warp engine? You would no longer live in his legacy," she said. She took her fingers from his.

He gave that thought pause. Out of all the things he could see as possible problems, letting his father down was the one that troubled him. But, something in him knew his father wanted him to be happy. He was the first interstellar captain. He already satisfied his greatest desire, being the captain aboard a starship. So what if he wasn't an admiral? Cutting his service short by a few years didn't matter as much now as he thought it would.

"Are you prepared for the consequences? How do you feel about me, T'Pol?" he asked. He wrapped his hand around hers.

"Vulcans do not …."

"T'Pol, I know you feel. I share your thoughts," he said. 

Having him acknowledge this made her weak. She eagerly met his lips with hers. After exploring his mouth with her own, her eyes met his. "My need for you is unfathomable, Jon" she said. "I care not what other Vulcans think of me or us."

He let his hand brush along her cheek.

She kissed his neck. She began to release her thoughts. Archer staggered at the intensity and intimacy of them. She spoke aloud as her voice echoed in his mind. "Yes, Vulcans mate for life. Yes, I was bonded, but relinquished that bond to stay aboard Enterprise. Yes, Jon, you were my first mate. And, yes, my feelings for you are strong. I have longed for you for almost a year, aisha. I crave your body, your mind and your katra ...your soul …."

"Aisha?" he asked. His mind reeled to understand the barrage of thoughts. He knew from her mind she had called him something akin to "love."

"Yes," she explained. "My beloved. Adored one."

He swallowed. Hearing her confess how she felt was overwhelming. Her emotions were slamming into him, drowning him. He barely eked out, "What now?"

Her tongue ran against his throat. "I want you," she said aloud. 

He groaned with desire. He wanted to shove the food that T'Pol had worked very hard at gathering off the table.

She looked at him and did something impulsive. She shoved the food off the table and pushed him onto it, unbuttoning his shirt.

Their lips groped each other feverishly. As she unbuttoned his shirt, she spread it out displaying his chest without taking it off.

He raised his eyebrows. She kissed down his neck and dipped her lips into his collarbone. He shivered. The images she pushed toward him were erotic and sensual. Her tongue ran over his chest. 

"T'Pol," he said, combing his fingers through her hair. She kissed down to his stomach and gently bit his navel. As she did, she began to work the button on his pants. He leaned up. 

"I want you," she said again. She let her smoldering gaze rest upon him and then took his chin in her teeth and bit down softly. 

She unbuttoned the cuff to his shirt and kissed his wrist. She unbuttoned the other cuff and softly bit down on his forearm. She continued this tender exploration until he was completely naked. She let her hands travel back up his torso, past his neck. Her fingers were twisting in his chestnut hair as she whispered again into his ear, "I want you."

They embraced again as their movements became more passionate and heated; she pushed him away. She stood up and began to strip for him, as he had done for her. She held his eyes with her gaze as her robes fell to the ground. She walked over to him and let her mouth explore every portion of his body.

He was soaking up her embraces, letting her feel her way around his body. He felt completely adored. Her mind repeated he was wanted, making the majority of the heartache he'd had for the past two days give way to adulation.

As their embraced became more urgent, Archer carried her over to the bed. As he placed her gently laid her down, she pulled him toward her and rolled onto him.

Chapter Fourteen 

It was morning, and Archer held T'Pol in his arms. He nuzzled her neck with his nose and realized with surprise it was a little tender. He kissed the tips of her ears. She rolled onto her back and looked up at him.

"Good morning," she said. 

He gave a lop-sided smile. "Hey," he said.

She touched the dimple in his chin. "Last night was very ...pleasurable, Jon."

He squinted at her. He stroked her cheek. He felt a deeply touched. 

"I hope you took that as a compliment," she said. Her hand touched his chest.

He held his two fingers out. "Yes," he said. "I definitely took that as a compliment." She met his eagerly.

After their fingers had caressed each other, he ran his hand down her nose and beeped it. 

She raised her eyebrow. He smiled. 

She was staring at him, wanting to say something, but not revealing her thoughts. Although he doubted she would tell him it was over, he felt he needed to verify it with her. "You're not going to tell me that you've decided we can't see each other, have you?"

She narrowed her eyes. "Of course not. That would be illogical."

"Yes it would," he said. His lips pressed on hers again. He drew back. "What did you want to tell me?"

"You are quite pleasing to look at," she remarked. She was gazing into his green eyes.

He grinned. "I'm glad it's not just my legs you find attractive," he said.

She cocked her eyebrow. "Not at all."

A goofy grin spread across his face. His mind urged her to detail what was pleasing about his physique, though nothing escaped his lips. 

"Your eyes have a certain twinkle to them," she answered.

He puts his lips on her throat.

"Your chin has a unique mark that is uncommon to Humans," she said. "I find it most ... intriguing. I believe it is called a cleft?" she asked. 

He murmured, "Yes."

"Your chest is sinewy."

She was beginning to embarrass him. "That's enough," he whispered in her ear. 

She pushed him back onto the bed. "You arms and shoulders are toned. Your posterior is round and full. You abdomen is taught …."

He interrupted her with a deep, probing kiss. 

The intercom chirped. "Bridge to Sub commander T'Pol."

Archer sat up with a start and looked at the time. He hadn't realized he was due on the bridge about twenty minutes ago. T'Pol gathered the sheets around her without thinking and ran to the intercom, leaving Jon naked. He began to protest.

"This is T'Pol," said the Vulcan, slightly breathless.

Hoshi's voice was on the other end. "Sub commander, we've been trying to hail the captain in his quarters. He was due on the bridge more than fifteen minutes ago," she said.

Captain Archer jumped out of bed and began to look around for his clothes that lay strewn around the room.

Archer scrambled to put on his trousers, nearly falling over. T'Pol calmly continued. "Perhaps I can reach him. If I do, I will let him know he is late."

"Aye, ma'am."

"Is Commander Tucker on the bridge, then?" she asked.

"Yes," said Hoshi.

T'Pol continued, "Would you provide a secure line to Commander Tucker in the ready room?"

The next voice she heard was Trip's. "Where the hell is Jon?"

"Trip, I'm in T'Pol's quarters," answered Archer, stepping up to the com.

"Oh …."

"I'm going to need about fifteen minutes." T'Pol's tongue ran along his earlobe. "No, better make that half and hour." 

"What should I tell the folks here?" asked Tucker.

T'Pol's lips had gathered on the back on Archer's neck. He writhed. "Tell them I overslept."

"Jon, when we couldn't find you, Lt. Reed entered your cabin to make sure you were okay. He walked into your empty quarters."

T'Pol's began unbuttoning Archer's shirt. "I'm in the gym," said Archer, trying to stay focused.

"No can do. Reed checked that out, too," responded Tucker.

T'Pol pushed the linen shirt from his shoulders and down his arm as she kissed his throat. His voice quivered. "Where haven't you looked?"

"You mean besides T'Pol's quarters?" asked Tucker.

Archer winced. "Yes."

"Sickbay," said Tucker. "I could say you were getting checked out."

T'Pol began unbuttoning his trousers. "Sounds great. And, it wouldn't be far from the truth. See you in an hour. Archer out."

As the Vulcan began to kiss his navel and hips, he wanted to contact sickbay, but couldn't take a chance that Hoshi would see the communication. He hoped maybe Tucker would think of that on his own and decided to go for it.

T'Pol interjected. "I could call."

Sharing thoughts would be something he'd have to get used to. "Be my guest." He began to work at her while she was speaking, kissing her shoulders.

"T'Pol to sickbay."

"Dr. Phlox here. Go ahead, Sub commander."

"The captain is in sickbay." T'Pol knew Hoshi monitored all communications. Archer's mouth traced her throat. Luckily, his first officer was more skilled in pushing aside his thoughts and actions.

"No, he's not," reported Dr. Phlox.

"Perhaps you should check again. The crew is apparently looking for him and contacted me here, in my quarters."

Phlox thought something was odd, but couldn't figure it out. "I don't know what you mean. I haven't seen him." He paused. "I wonder where he is."

"Wonder indeed. Well, he is not in _his _quarters. Again, I submit he must be in sickbay."

"Sub commander, Captain Archer is not here."

"Dr. Phlox, you provided me some advice yesterday in the mess hall. I determined your were correct in your analysis. I decided to act upon your advice and believe the problem has been resolved. You were correct on your course of action as well." Archer began kissing down her back.

"My advice?"

"Yes - about choice. But, rather than discuss myself, we should get back to Captain Archer who is, I am certain, in sickbay and should be logged as such." She paused. "It will clear up the crew's concern and confusion." As Archer's lips reached the end of his spine, he thought she was excellent at conveying hidden information.

Phlox got the message. "Very well. He is here. And, Sub commander, I'm glad things worked out."

"I am as well. Sub commander T'Pol out." She turned around to Archer. "You do not have much time to get ready."

He stood up. "I don't need much. But, I do need something else."

"Surely you do not have the time for this."

He picked her up in his arms and sat her on her desk by the com, facing him. "I don't I need much." His lips ran to her ears. "That is, if it's okay with you."

She raised her eyebrow as he gathered her to him. "That is more than acceptable. I too have bridge duty soon." She wrapped her legs around his waist. 

As they began an intimate embrace, he smiled. "You've got nice legs, too."

Chapter Fifteen 

Tucker winced thinking of his captain and Sub commander T'Pol getting it on. He winced again thinking about how one would get it on with a Vulcan. He wished he could scrub that image from his mind.

As Trip walked out the door, Hoshi looked up. "Is the captain okay?"

"Yeah," he said. "He'll be on the bridge in about an hour."

"Where was he?" asked Hoshi.

"Uhm, T'Pol thought he was in sickbay. 

Hoshi frowned. "Oh. Something wrong?"

"Nope. Not anymore." He looked over at her. He saw a few buttons on her console light up. He took the earpiece from her ear and learned in. "Listen, I've been meaning to ask you about movie night. We've got to work some sort of compromise."

Hoshi smiled. "What kind of compromise?"

"I don't know. Maybe we can discuss it at dinner tonight in the captain's dining room - 1800," said Trip.

"Other committee members invited?" she asked.

"I was kinda thinking we'd meet first and work out the kinks," he responded. 

Her grin widened. "I'd like that Commander Tucker."

He smirked. "Yea, me too."

He walked over to the captain's chair and looked out at the stars. He shook his head; he had a date tonight.

[top]

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Video captures by fabulous Enterprise 8875©2003.   
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	3. Some Rules are Meant to be Broken 3

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Some Rules are Meant to be Broken, Part 3 

Some Rules are Meant to be Broken: one | two | three | four 

Chapter One 

Archer arrived on the bridge almost two hours late. As he walked onto the bridge, his smile was infectious. He walked in thinking he would relieve his engineer from command, but noticed Commander Tucker wasn't on the bridge.

"Hello, Captain," said Hoshi. 

"Hello."

"Feeling better, sir?"

"What?" he asked. 

Hoshi squished her face from side to side. "You were in sickbay, sir."

"Oh, yes. Feeling better, thanks."

Reed turned around. "Captain, we were starting to get concerned about you. We went to your quarters and to the gym, but couldn't locate you."

"Thanks, Lt. Reed. I guess I was incommunicado," said Archer.

"We almost decided to do a systems search until Hoshi contacted Sub commander T'Pol," said Reed. 

Archer looked back at Hoshi with his eyebrows raised. "I'm glad you found me," he said. He crossed the room. "Is Commander Tucker in my ready room?" he asked.

Hoshi spoke up first. "Yes, sir."

He nodded and rang the chime on his own door.

"Come on in," he heard through the other side.

Archer's grin widened. He never knew what it felt like to be on the other side. He noticed it was difficult to hear through the door. He'd have to remember to speak up when he asked people to enter his office.

Archer walked in and Commander Tucker stood up. "Cap'n," said Tucker.

As the door swished shut, Archer shook his head. "I'm really sorry."

Tucker shrugged. "Gave me a chance to catch up on my engineering reports." He paused. "Everything straight between you two?" he asked referring to Archer and Sub commander T'Pol.

Archer smiled. "I think so. But, I need to contact Admiral Forrest."

"Cap'n, he doesn't need to know what's going on between the two of you. I mean, hell, you've waived fraternization regs for pretty much everyone on board."

"Trip, rules are rules. He does need to know. You report to me, and I report to him. I think it's best I talk with him about this and get his ruling."

"You gonna talk with Ambassador Soval, too?" asked Tucker.

"No. I understand the Vulcans do not have the same rules about fraternization. Besides," he lowered his voice. "I'm not sure how the Vulcans would react." He rubbed the back of his neck.

Tucker narrowed his eyes. "You mean about you being with T'Pol, or about a Human and a Vulcan?"

"Both."

Tucker nodded. "Good luck," he said, walking out.

Archer looked over the reports on his desk and over at the screen. He took a deep breath. "Ensign Sato," he said, pushing the com.

"Yes, sir?" she responded.

"Could you get me Admiral Forrest?" he asked.

"Yes, sir."

Archer's heart began to race and he tried to steady his nerves. As the Admiral's face appeared at his console, Archer smiled.

"Admiral," said Archer.

"Jon, I thought your report wasn't for a few days. This a social call?" asked Forrest.

His grin faded slightly. "I wish it was, sir. No I needed your advice and help on something."

Forrest nodded. "Okay, continue, Captain."

Archer scratched his head. "Several days ago, I witnessed some fraternizing between crewmembers."

"I see. Not surprisingly really. We knew this would be a problem. Two years of celibacy is a lot to ask your crew," said Forrest. "And they're not coming home anytime soon."

Archer nodded. "Two years without relations is a lot to ask the crew, sir. I discussed an unofficial policy with Commander Tucker and Sub commander T'Pol that the crew should be allowed to fraternize as long as it wasn't with a direct or indirect report that would impact their duties. This unofficial policy was for crew and officers alike."

Forrest smiled. "I think that's a very good idea. Don't want to give the impression of impropriety. Do you need me to approve it?" Forrest was still unsure why Archer was contacting him.

"No, sir. I wanted to inform you I have violated fraternization rules and my unofficial policy."

Forrest's smile faded and a frown formed. "I don't understand."

"I'm romantically involved with a member of my crew."

"Jon, who is it?" asked Forrest.

"I'd like this to remain confidential," said Archer.

"I can't honor that request."

"It's important that you do," explained Archer.

"You'll have to tell me first, then we'll see."

Archer sighed. "Sub commander T'Pol."

Forrest raised his eyebrows. "I'm sorry, what did you just say?"

"Sub commander T'Pol."

Forrest looked like a bomb had been dropped. "Your Vulcan first officer?" he asked.

"Yes, sir."

"And, she was ... willing?" he asked.

"Yes, sir."

"I don't have to tell you as your friend, I think you're making a mistake. Both Vulcans and Humans have prejudices that will interfere with your relationship."

"I am aware of it, and I don't care," he said. "I've had feelings for her for some time. An opportunity presented itself to further the relationship and I took it," said Archer.

Forrest was still puzzled. "I just frankly can't believe she returns your ... feelings."

"Neither can I," said Archer, smiling.

Forrest was still frowning. "If the Vulcans find out about this, it could cause diplomatic problems. The Sub commander isn't going to tell her people, is she?" he asked.

"Vulcans don't have the same rules regarding fraternization. I've asked T'Pol not to speak with them. I'm concerned about diplomatic problems, as well as prejudices against her."

"How far is this relationship along?" asked Forrest.

"Just started."

Forrest nodded. "So, how did this 'opportunity' present itself?"

Archer knew this would come up, especially since he opened the door. "I cannot discuss this -- it involves confidential medical records and information about Vulcan rituals. I've given my word this will remain private."

Forrest shook his head. "Not good enough. You'd better come clean."

He sighed. "Sir, this has to remain confidential."

Forrest nodded. "Okay."

Archer took a deep breath. "Vulcans need to mate every seven years. This mating urge is so strong, they mate or die trying. T'Pol's mating cycle started recently."

"So, what you're saying is she needed to mate with someone or die?" asked Forrest.

"Yes, sir. She couldn't reach a Vulcan ship or her home planet. She turned to me, and actually, I was happy she did. I was hoping she would."

"Is she still involved in this mating cycle?" asked Forrest.

"No, sir."

"So, her mating urge is gone?" asked Forrest.

"Yes, sir."

"But, you want to continue this relationship now?"

"Yes, sir."

"Both of you?"

"Yes."

Forrest nodded. "Does your crew know?"

Archer shifted in his seat. "I think they're starting to become aware. Commander Tucker and Dr. Phlox know." He paused. "Sir, the ship is small. They'd figure it out soon enough. I'd rather they hear it from me, which is part of the reason I'm talking with you now."

"Where do you see this relationship going?" asked Forrest.

Archer shook his head. "It's hard to determine that now. I know that by ... participating in her ritual ...," he stopped that line of thought. "This mating cycle involves a deep commitment from Vulcans."

Forrest was beginning to get the idea. "And you?"

Archer smiled. "I feel deeply committed to her as well. I love her. But, I think we may need some time to determine what our long range plans are."

Forrest continued, "What if you fell out of love with her?"

Archer was surprised he was getting questions about his love and commitment to T'Pol from Forrest. "I doubt that would happen."

"Jon, I've seen you date a few women. I even set you up with one where you ended the relationship."

Jon bit the side of his lip. "Rebecca?" he asked.

Forrest nodded. "That's right."

"This is different."

"That sounds familiar."

Jon couldn't tell the admiral about sharing his thoughts with T'Pol, and being connected with her on a level that no Human could ever experience. "I may have said it before, but it's true. I wish I could elaborate."

"What if you run into a dangerous situation? Would you be able to send her into the fray?" asked Forrest.

Archer did think these questions would come up. "I've thought about that. I would, but it wouldn't be easy."

"Would you sacrifice her life to save the crew?" asked Forrest.

"I don't know if I could make that decision. But, I know her well enough to understand she would do it of her own volition," said Archer.

"Would you ask another crewmen to sacrifice themselves for her?"

Archer shifted uncomfortable in his seat. "Depends on the situation. If I thought it was in the best interest of the ship and its crew, then yes. I certainly would give my life for hers."

"Would she have more sway over your judgment?" he asked.

He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. "Probably."

"Would she affect your job performance?" asked Forrest.

"Does coming in a little late today count?" asked Archer, trying to add some levity.

"Yes," said Forrest.

"Well, I was late today. But, I don't see it happening again."

"How do you think the crew would take the news?" asked Forrest.

"I don't know. Some would be happy. Some might feel angry because of their prejudices."

"What if I asked you to stop seeing her," said Forrest.

Archer's face fell. "Is that your decision?" 

"Not yet."

"I ... I would probably leave Starfleet."

"Do you think you and the Sub commander would have children?" asked Forrest.

Archer sat back in his seat. "I don't know if it's even possible."

Forrest sat back in his chair. "Let me tell you what happens down here if you continue your relationship. It's in the media. The Vulcans find out about it and probably ask that T'Pol be removed or you be removed, or both. Starfleet is set back in our diplomatic efforts and possibly whatever technology assistance, what little there is, the Vulcans have given us. The project may be scrubbed. You and T'Pol would have no planet to call home."

Archer shook his head. "That's a worst case scenario, sir."

"Is it?" asked Forrest. "If I remove you now, I know it wouldn't happen."

Archer nodded. "I knew my removal was a possible outcome."

"I'm not done, Captain. What you did to Starfleet was very damaging. You may have saved her life and made yourself happy, but you are putting your planet through possible diplomatic problems that have a far-reaching impact."

"Sir, a union between T'Pol and I may further understanding between our races."

"Maybe. But, it's unlikely," said Forrest. "Our races will most likely never be close." He squinted and leaned in. "I think overall you used poor judgment, but it took courage to talk with me and be as honest as you've been, especially given the confidential nature of your information. You're wise to treat this information with care. That's one of the reasons you're out there, instead of Duval."

Archer smiled.

"I wouldn't grin so fast if I were you." Archer's face straightened, as Forrest continued. "Do not talk with your crew about this relationship. I don't want this getting back home. In fact, I want you to disavow this relationship in front of your crew."

"But, Commander Tucker and Dr. Phlox ...."

"Don't tell them anymore. Leave it up to their imagination to figure it out."

Archer nodded with hesitancy. "I noticed you didn't ask me to stop seeing her."

"Don't make me regret that decision, Captain."

"Yes, sir."

"If more of your crew finds out, talk with me again."

"Yes, sir."

"Jon, do you think your father would approve of a relationship with a Vulcan?" asked Forrest.

"I think he would, if he knew I was in love and was happy."

Forrest nodded and shut off the communication.

Archer sat back and expelled more air. A thought came across his mind from T'Pol.

'Don't worry, Aisha. All will be well,' thought T'Pol. 

He was surprised he could hear her thoughts from several rooms and meters away. He smiled. 

Chapter Two 

Archer walked out onto the bridge, looking slightly troubled. He smiled as everyone looked at him. They knew this wasn't his typical meeting time with Admiral Forrest, but didn't know why Archer wanted to contact him. Reed figured it was something about work. Travis thought it was a social call. And Hoshi thought it was about T'Pol.

Hoshi wanted to ask about his meeting with the admiral, but knew as the communications officer, one of her duties was to ensure the privacy and confidentiality of the captain's conversations. She noticed he had used a scrambling device to prevent her from seeing or listening in on the communiqué. He frequently did that when contacting the admiral.

He sat down and went over his reports on the bridge, something he rarely did. He thought about his conversation as he picked up a padd.

T'Pol walked out of the turbolift, entering the bridge for duty. "Hello, Captain," she said walking to her station.

He smiled, "Sub commander."

He tried to barely notice her and focused back on his reports. 

As T'Pol sat down she thought, 'Ensign Jones forgot to recalibrate the sensors, as I asked him to.'

Archer looked up and replied. "Maybe you should talk with him."

Everyone looked up, including T'Pol. "No one said anything to you, Captain," clarified T'Pol. She thought, 'That is, no one said it to you aloud, Jon. I thought it.'

He nodded. "Sorry, must have heard something," he said to the bridge crew. The bridge remained quiet and continued what they were doing.

'I will have to teach you how to distinguish what I say aloud from my thoughts,' thought T'Pol.

'Good idea,' thought Archer. 

Her eyebrow perched onto her forehead. He smiled thinking this was kind of fun. Being an only child, he would play with action figures quietly, moving their heads when speaking without letting saying anything out loud. However, in his mind, he used different voices for them and included curse words. He liked being able to do this with someone else and project thoughts to her. As if to test his new skill, he thought, 'God, you look beautiful.' He glanced up at her.

Her eyes met his. 'You are not unattractive yourself.' 

He chuckled aloud and continued reading reports. After a couple of hours, Lt. Reed crossed the bridge and walked over to T'Pol.

"Sub commander T'Pol," said Lt. Reed. He leaned in. "I would like to work with you on providing a tactical analysis for your station. I'd prefer to have a back-up system in place on the bridge, in case something happens to my station or the armory area."

T'Pol nodded. "Very efficient."

Malcolm grinned. "Then shall I begin this task with you later today?" He leaned in more, almost touching her.

"Of course," said the first officer.

"Right, then. Let's meet at the armory at 1430," said Reed. He leaned in closer. "I must admit, I've been looking forward to working on this little project with you."

Archer looked up. T'Pol felt a tinge of jealousy work its way through him. His mind was chewing on ways to make Reed stay on the bridge at that time.

'Aisha, there is nothing to be jealous of,' thought T'Pol.

'I suspect Lt. Reed has a crush on you.'

'Yes, he does.'

Archer dropped his padd. Reed, closest to the dropped tablet, turned around to pick it up for the captain. "Sorry, just a little clumsy," explained Archer aloud, as he took the padd from Malcolm. He squinted at the armory officer. 

"No problem, sir," said Reed. Malcolm walked back to his station and turned around to look at the Vulcan, who was calmly back to work. He sighed and went back to his job.

Archer watched this and winced. 'You will let me know if it becomes a problem, right?'

'I appreciate your concern, but it is unnecessary. His feelings are harmless.' 

Archer's stomach rumbled he looked over at T'Pol. "Sub commander, care to join me for lunch?"

"Certainly," she responded.

Archer looked at Reed. "Malcolm, you have the bridge."

He nodded. "Yes, sir."

Archer and T'Pol walked to the turbolift. He wanted to hold her hand when the door shut, but wasn't sure he should.

"I really enjoyed this morning," he said, smiling.

"As did I," she said. She reached over to his hand and held it. 

As the doors opened his hand quickly withdrew. 

'I'd like to talk with you about my meeting this morning with Admiral Forrest,' thought Archer.

She nodded, 'I know it has been concerning you.'

As they walked into the captain's dining room for lunch, Archer felt like he could begin talking. "I've been asked not to discuss our relationship with anyone, not even Trip. In fact, I've been asked if he confronts me about it ... to deny it." He clarified. "I've been asked to lie about us."

"Jon, is this something you think you can do?" asked T'Pol.

"I don't see I have much of a choice, especially given Earth and Vulcan's sensitive relationship." He paused. "I'm not embarrassed of us; I hope you understand that. In fact, I'd kinda like to show you off." He smirked. 

Her eyebrow arched. "I think Admiral Forrest made the best decision, although I do not condone lying. Our two governments are on tenuous ground, especially after Enterprise was launched."

He blew out a deep breath. "It seems awful that we can't share this with anyone."

"Except ourselves," she corrected.

He smiled goofily at her, curling up his lips and letting his eyes glaze over. "Except ourselves," he repeated. He grabbed her hand.

"I need to speak with you about something I know has been on your mind," said T'Pol. She withdrew her hand, hearing footsteps. 

He nodded.

As the steward brought out food – salad for T'Pol and a sandwich, they used their mental link to continue.

'I wanted to talk with you about Vulcan rituals and bondmates.'

Archer nodded. 'Dr. Phlox indicated that he believed Vulcans create a bond with those they form a mental connection with. And ... it seems perhaps we have? In fact, it seems much stronger today than just yesterday.'

The steward walked out, allowing them to talk. It felt only slightly unnatural for Archer to switch back and forth.

"Yes, we have established a deeper link than I thought was possible," said T'Pol. She sighed. "Almost as deep a bond as if I were with another Vulcan."

"You indicated last night that once a bond is shared it is shared for life?" he asked.

"To a Vulcan, this is a life-long commitment."

"I'm sure this is moving quickly for both of us, but ... I have never felt this way about anyone. Maybe because we have shared ... and are sharing our thoughts." He scratched his head. "The level of intimacy between us is ... so ... deep and unexpected."

He leaned in. "I know things about you that it may've taken years to know if we simply spoke. For example, today on the bridge, you thought about the time your father had first taken you to meet Koss."

She looked surprised. "You know about Koss?" she asked.

"Of course. Just as you know about Rebecca, Caroline, .... Our thoughts are one." He held up his two fingers. 

She placed her two fingers against his eagerly. "Aisha, you understand the situation perfectly."

"I may be Human ... and thick-headed sometimes, but yes – I think I understand."

Through her mental link, he thought to her, 'And Humans think that love is supreme. If they only knew ....'

"Something about the Vulcans is superior to Humans, Jonathan Archer?"

He smiled. "Yes. A couple of things." He looked into her eyes.

She took his hand and kissed it. "What now?" she asked.

"What would Vulcans do at this point? I can't sense that from you," said Archer.

"Unknown. Few Vulcans have mated outside our species."

"Doesn't infinite diversity in infinite combinations encourage mating outside your species?" he asked.

She was impressed. "You have been studying the teachings of the book I leant you months ago," she responded.

"Yes. I also sensed you have been thinking about the IDIC a lot today."

She smiled on the inside. "I have, Jon. You ask an excellent question; I too have wondered the same thing. However, some cannot see sharing outside of our culture and species."

He nodded. "Okay, so if I were Vulcan, what would happen?" he asked.

"We would complete the ceremony to become lifemates," she stated.

"We'd be married?" he asked.

"Yes, so to speak."

"If something didn't work out, or I died ... would you be able to form another bond?" he asked.

"It is possible. If you died I might be able to form another bond. However, few Vulcans break the bond with a lifemate who is alive," she said. He knew that was true even before she said it.

"I see. No divorce, huh?" he asked. "So, marriage might be the next logical step for us."

"Perhaps," she said.

He sighed. "If we were married, what would be the difference? Would the Vulcans accept you more?"

"Unknown."

He nodded. "I see marriage as a possibility for us ...." He let his voice trail off.

"When we entered this relationship, we gave up the rules and customs of our people," she replied. "I have already decided being your formal lifemate is unimportant." She held out her two fingers for him, in the sign of a Vulcan embrace. "You are my lifemate no matter who acknowledges this."

He joined her gesture. She understood he was hesitant to get married right away. Earth customs included dating before making this commitment. But, she also knew his commitment was real; he just needed time.

"You have also been wondering about children in our future," she said.

His lips tightened. "Yes. I know you have as well."

"It is unlikely that we will be able to reproduce," she said. "Vulcan scientists have proven that copper-based life forms cannot mate with iron-based ...," she said. 

He could tell her disappointment. She was a young Vulcan, and children were almost expected from lifemates. It was logical; lifemates existed to procreate in Vulcan society.

"Vulcan scientists thought you and I would be unable to sustain a mental link," he prodded.

The rebuttal didn't seem to give her comfort.

He sighed. "T'Pol, I don't need to have children to be happy. I just need you." He felt the need to grab her hand. "Besides, I didn't think at my age I would have any kids."

She knew he was partially telling her the truth. He saw himself with children one day; he wanted to be a father, but not as badly as he wanted to be a captain. He was telling her the truth when he said he loved her and didn't need children to continue to be happy with her. 

"It is the one aspect of our relationship I wish could be rectified," she said. "Although, I know it is imprudent and illogical to wish circumstances were different. The situation is what it is. And, by the time we would want children, perhaps the situation will be different."

Archer raised his eyebrows. "If you want children, when the time comes, we could adopt ...."

She nodded, biting her bottom lip.

He took her hand to his mouth and kissed it. "I will enjoy trying to prove Vulcan scientists wrong."

"Aisha," she said quietly. "Is it any wonder why you are imperative to me?"

He smiled. "I love you, too." He decided to take a big risk and leaned over to kiss her. She met his tender lips. As their lips parted, he brushed her hair away from her forehead and behind her ear. 

"You are very affectionate," she commented. She could sense he adored her.

His eyes twinkled. "Vulcans don't share this kind of contact?"

"Sometimes," she responded. "When the match between bondmates is highly desirable. But, not in front of others, and certainly not in settings such as this."

He gave her a lop-sided grin and turned to his meal. "Public displays of affection are not uncommon for Humans, although it is sometimes believed to be in bad taste." He looked up and winked. "Especially when more than kissing is involved."

"I must admit," she said without emotion. "I find the touching of lips to be highly pleasurable." 

He laughed. "That makes two of us." Archer looked up at the clock – it was 1315. He knew he had a meeting scheduled with Trip at 1330.

"Oh, Geez," said Archer, chugging his iced tea.

She raised her eyebrow. "You will be late for your meeting with Commander Tucker?"

He began to wolf down his food. "Not if I can help it." She tried not to watch, but he knew eating quickly, especially meat, bothered her. 

He was about to say something when she stopped him. "No need to apologize. I do not expect you to become a vegetarian. And the sight of you eating meat bothers me less and less."

"I remember a couple of nights ago, you brought me steak," he said. "I never considered it must have been difficult for you."

She raised an eyebrow. A thought crossed his mind. "Are you still using the nasal numbing agent?" he asked.

"Would you be disappointed if I said yes?" she asked.

He lied, "No."

"I know it displeases you. But, yes, I am still using it."

He smiled again. "Well, I love you just as you are." He winked, wiping a napkin over his mouth.

Something of a smile played upon her lips. When he put the napkin down, she touched the cleft in his chin.

"I got to get going," he said. He leaned over to kiss her. "See you later, honey." He walked out the door. 

She looked after the door. "Honey?" she asked herself to see how she liked the word. She nodded and went back to her meal.

Chapter Three 

Archer walked into Engineering on time, after walking briskly for the past few minutes. As he reached the area, he blew out a breath of relief and his food felt a little unsettled. He smiled with satisfaction; he was on time. 

"Hey, Cap'n," said Tucker sauntering over.

"Trip," he said with a smile.

"I half-expected you to call in late. I figured maybe you'd want a long lunch, too," said Trip grinning.

Archer ignored the comment. "So, I'm here to inspect the engines. Are you ready?"

"Sure."

"Ensign Carter," said Tucker calling over a brown-haired man about 23-years old who because of his chubby cheeks looked 18. "I want you to meet Captain Archer officially."

Archer grinned. "Nice to meet you ... Richard?" he asked, sticking out his hand for a handshake. 

Carter took his hand eagerly, looking embarrassed. "Rich," he said.

"Rich here managed to take care of some repairs without any guidance." Trip looked back at the young man. "I didn't think he could do it."

Rich smiled and turned red. "Cap'n, the documentation that the commander wrote really helped."

Trip resisted the urge to muss his fellow engineer's hair. Archer smiled. "I'm glad Engineering is well taken care of." He looked from Trip to the ensign. "Ensign Carter, I read this special notation in Commander Tucker's report. I want you to know that the repairs you made weren't easy, and I know for a fact they aren't taught in the academy."

The young man smiled.

"Now, let's go on that tour," said Archer to Trip.

As they walked away, Trip spoke up. "I think you just made that kid's day."

"Well, you did a nice thing back there. I think one day you'll make a fine captain," said Archer.

Tucker pointed to the large turbine-looking devices. "Engines are at about 92% efficiency. Engineering would like to make a request to take them offline."

Archer nodded. "How long would the repairs take?"

Tucker scratched his head. "Maybe three hours, unless we run into some problems."

"Go ahead and coordinate this request with Sub commander T'Pol and Lt. Reed. I want to ensure your repairs won't affect them. Also, I'll ask T'Pol to run a long-range scan to see if there will be any ships in the area." He looked at his engineer. "I'd feel like a sitting duck out here if I knew we could only use our impulse engines for several hours."

"You bet. Speaking of T'Pol ...," began Trip.

Archer gazed away, hoping to give his friend a hint.

"I take it everything worked out with sickbay?" he asked.

Archer rubbed the back of his neck. "I'd rather not discuss it." Archer looked back at the engines. He wanted to say more, he really did owe his friend, but he was trying to follow Admiral Forrest's orders.

Tucker decided to change the subject. "Hey, I took your advice."

Archer turned around. "What advice is that?"

"I'd like to take you up on that offer to use the Captain's dining room. In fact, I'd like to use it tonight."

"Hoshi?"

Tucker's grin widened. "We're discussing the movie lineup."

Archer hit him on the arm. "That's great. I don't suppose you asked the rest of the committee?"

"Heck, no," said Tucker. 

"Take all the time you need. I can eat in my cabin," said Archer. 

Trip smiled. "Sounds like a plan." He paused. "You wanted to know about the parts we need, let me show you those relays ...."

Trip continued to take Archer around the engine room as they discussed parts and the effects of taking the systems offline.

Chapter Four 

At 1600, Archer returned back to the bridge. T'Pol got up from the captain's chair. He smiled.

"All systems normal, sir," she said.

"Thank you, Sub commander." He looked at her and thought, 'How did the armory discussion go?'

She raised her eyebrow. 'Lt. Reed and I were going over schematics and plans. Work will begin in earnest tomorrow.'

He nodded. 

'We either need to eat in our cabins or get to the mess hall pretty soon. I gave Trip permission to eat in my dining room with ... an associate,' thought Archer.

'I see. Ensign Sato?'

Archer chuckled. 'Yes. How did you know?'

'It is logical. Jon, would you would like to eat with me tonight?'

He smiled. 'Absolutely. My cabin?'

'Certainly. It will give you a chance to spend some time with Porthos.'

He grinned. 'Not the quadruped?'

'No. Your dog has a name.'

'That's my girl.' He looked at the screen in front of them and turned to Lt. Reed. "Everything go well in the armory?"

"Yes, sir. With Sub commander T'Pol's suggestions, I think the back-up system should more than adequate," said Reed.

Jon gave a lop-sided smile. "Good."

"I, of course, will include this in my report, sir, which I will be able to prepare by tomorrow morning," continued Reed.

Archer screwed up his face. "That's fine, Malcolm."

Reed shook his head, thinking he'd blown it again, and went back to work.

"I've asked Commander Tucker to talk with you and Sub commander T'Pol regarding taking the engines offline. T'Pol, can you run a long-range scan and determine if there are any vessels approaching?"

"I can, sir," she said.

"Good. I need to prepare a report to Starfleet. I'll be in my ready room. You have the bridge, Sub commander."

T'Pol nodded and continued looking in her scanner.

He usually felt bored on days when they weren't cataloging astronomical events, trying to meet new life or running various efficiency tests. But, he was glad to have some downtime. The reports he had to read and send on to Starfleet were sometimes overwhelming.

After a couple of hours, his door chimed. 

"Come," he said. He looked up, knowing it was T'Pol.

T'Pol stood at the door. As the door swished shut, she walked over and sat down across from him. "Hungry?" she asked.

He smiled. "For ....?"

She raised her eyebrow. "I know you have been busy and arranged dinner in your quarters tonight. I hope that is all right."

He leaned in. "Sounds great. How did you get around ordering for yourself?" he asked.

"I will eat your salad."

He smiled. "That's going to be enough?"

"I believe so. I will meet you at your quarters within thirty minutes. I would like an opportunity to change clothes."

"Will you be staying tonight?" he asked. He reached over and took her hand in his, intertwining his fingers in hers.

"I am uncertain. I do not wish to reveal our relationship, as per the admiral's instructions. And, I sense you need a ... courtship."

"I think sharing our thoughts has already put us past dating, but as much as I want to be with you, I think it's important to slow down a little," he explained.

She agreed. "I agree with your logic, Jon."

He grinned. "But, just so you know, I would really, really like to be with you tonight."

T'Pol raised her eyebrow. "We shall see." 

He sat back and grinned more. His smile was goofy and his eyes had glazed over. 

T'Pol decided this is what it must be like to look like one is in love. "Aisha, you are endearing." She stroked his cheek, caressing his smile.

He kissed her fingertips. "I'm glad you think so." 

She raised an eyebrow. She thought, 'I think your Human saying about charming the pants off someone takes a whole new meaning with you. I can see how my ... pants come off so easily around you.'

He laughed. 'We'll see about tonight.'

T'Pol stood up. "It is hard to resist you," she said aloud.

"Good."

"See you shortly."

He nodded. He let her walk out, and then followed suit 15 minutes later.

Chapter Five 

Hoshi got ready for her date with Commander Tucker. She put on a teal silk dress that she hadn't worn yet. There really weren't many occasions to dress up on Enterprise. She didn't want to lay it on too thick, but wasn't sure if he wanted to talk about just movies or ... something else. So, in case he wanted to talk about just movies, maybe he would see her and feel encouraged to talk about something else.

She sprayed perfume on her neck and shook her hair loose. She decided she looked pretty good and walked down the hall, to men turning their heads. She smiled.

She walked into the captain's room with confidence. She saw Trip wearing a pair of slightly wrinkled black pants and a white shirt that was unbuttoned two buttons.

He stood up, letting the napkin fall from his lap. "Hoshi, you look real nice."

She smiled, letting her red lipstick show off her white teeth. "Thank you. You clean up pretty good yourself."

He laughed. He walked over and held out her chair for her, scooting her in. She smiled. "Thank you."

He sat down. As the steward came out, Hoshi seemed a little out of her element. Trip looked at her. "I hope you wouldn't think it presumptuous of me to order for you?" he asked.

She smiled. "Not at all. I think you know what I like."

He grinned widely back. "How about the chicken special?" 

Hoshi smiled. 

"And a glass of the house Chardonnay."

She continued to smile.

"I'd like the usual," he said.

The steward nodded and left. Trip turned to her. "So, I had the captain in the engine room today. Scared the hell out of most of the crewmen down there."

She giggled. "I heard Carter was beside himself that the captain actually talked with him."

"Sure was. Guy was on cloud nine for the rest of the day."

"I gotta ask you, Trip. What's going on with him and Sub commander T'Pol?"

"Hell if I know."

"He seemed better today on the bridge," she responded. "I guess they must've worked everything out."

Trip scratched his head. "He did seem in pretty good spirits, but didn't want to talk about it."

"Well, they make a cute couple ... in a weird way."

He laughed. "It is pretty funny to think of them together." He suddenly had a flashback to thinking of them intimately together. He shook his head. 

Hoshi coughed. "You wanted to meet with me about my choice in movies?"

"I don't think I need to tell you, over half the ship is male," he said. "And men don't like musicals."

She raised her eyebrows. "Trip, you've been playing horror and science fiction films for the past four months. I think you can give us a little equality."

"I want to, but you've been outvoted."

"Only because you have more men than women on the movie committee," corrected Hoshi.

"Remember, we decided to include committee members based on the ship's representation." He paused. "I don't make up the rules, I just follow them."

She decided to take a different tact. "What's so awful about seeing some of the movies we've selected?"

Trip shook his head. "Now, please don't take offense."

Hoshi crossed her arms. "Go ahead."

"I'm just naming a few of the examples, Love, Death and Crying, Lonely Hearts, Wine and Chocolate and Singing in the Rain."

She smiled. "They're really good. I think you might like them."

"Based on the names alone, they seem rather ... girlie."

"But, you haven't seen any?" she asked.

"Well, no. I mean, did you hear the names? Not many guys would be caught watching these."

"Lt. Ramirez watches them," she explained.

"He's seeing Ensign Simon."

"Oh," she said. 

"Well, the women on board don't like movies like Bride of Frankenstein," she explained.

"What's not to like?" he asked.

The food arrived and was set in front of them. Hoshi seemed impressed.

"This looks great, Trip. Thanks for ordering this for me," she said.

He smiled. "My pleasure."

"I hope you don't take this personally, but these horror movies you pick out seem kinda stupid and cheesy."

He dropped his fork.

"I'm sorry!" She reached over and touched his arm. He looked down at her hand and let a smile break out across his face.

"Do you have any suggestions on a compromise?" he asked after a few seconds.

"I think what we have now is a good compromise," she said.

"We could give crewmembers the chance to vote," he said.

"I'm okay with that, as long as it's anonymous. I think guys may like musicals, but say they don't. I know the captain was excited to see Westside Story."

"He was just being nice," said Trip. He knew he could win the votes to keep watching horror and sci-fi. 

"I don't think so. He genuinely liked it. He said he was a fan of Sondheim and that this was one of his earliest works."

Trip shook his head. "He only likes it cuz it's Romeo and Juliet. He likes Shakespeare."

Hoshi frowned and decided to change the subject. "I've noticed you've been coming by communications a lot lately to tweak the console," she said. 

Tucker took a fork full of catfish. "Just tryin' to be helpful."

"I thought you were trying to butter me up to change my movie votes," she said. 

"Nah," he said smiling. 

"You could've sent someone else from Engineering, like Broughton, Carter or Fernandez," she explained.

"They're not as familiar with communications as me," he said.

"Mmmm hmmmm," she said, taking another forkful.

"Do you like country music?" he asked out of the blue.

She looked at him as if he was crazy. "Not really."

"Key lime pie?" he asked.

"It's pretty good."

"Here's the last question, and I hope for your sake you answer this one correctly," he said.

She laughed. "I didn't realize I'd answered the other ones incorrectly."

"Oh, you did," he said smiling. He paused. "Do you like the original Star Wars or the remake?" he asked.

She giggled. "I like the original, even though the effects are a little cheesy," she replied.

"There's hope for you yet, Ensign Sato," he said, smiling.

"I was just thinking the same for you, Commander Tucker," she said. She noticed he had a large smudge of catfish on his upper lip. She giggled and took her hand to his mouth, wiping it away.

Rather than seem startled by her move, he grinned. "I'm kind of a sloppy eater."

"Good thing you're also kinda cute," she said.

Trip looked over at her. "You know, we could go over to my cabin and have a night cap," he suggested.

"Or, we could go to mine and watch Casablanca – director's cut," she said.

"Now why can't you have that movie on the list? That's a good one," he said. He pushed his plate back, which was completely barren of any trace of food.

She grinned. "Agreed! I think we should add it. Want to meet me at my quarters in about thirty minutes."

"You bet," he said. He stood up and helped her out of her chair. She kissed his cheek and headed out the door. He gave a big, goofy grin and walked out.

Chapter Six 

Archer lit some candles in his room. As Jon looked over his musical selections, he decided on Coltrane. He knew T'Pol liked it. He smiled. He looked in the mirror and straightened his black turtleneck. He noticed his khaki pants had a couple of dog hairs and tried to brush them away.

The door chimed. He walked over and opened the door.

T'Pol was in a purple silk pants suit with a green sash. He grinned at her. "Come on in," he said.

She stood in the cabin and Porthos came running to her. She patted him on the head. Archer gave her a peck on the lips. 

"Thanks for ordering dinner, it looks great."

"I am glad it is to your liking," she said.

He walked her over to the table and offered her a seat. After she sat down, he scooted her into the table. She looked confused.

"Sorry, it's a Earth tradition. Men do this to be gentlemen."

"Are males concerned that females cannot reach the table?" she asked.

Jon shook his head. "You know, I have no idea why guys do it."

She looked at him. "Jon, you are playing one of my favorite pieces of music," she commented.

He smiled. "I know."

"Aisha, that was thoughtful." She put her napkin in her lap. "When I was at the Vulcan compound, I would listen to some of the music played in the San Francisco area. They had a late night program ...."

"You're not talking about Jazzy Jeff, are you? Saturday nights?"

"Yes," she said. "I did not realize you liked Mr. Jeff as well."

Archer thought it was very cute she called him Mr. Jeff; he decided not to correct her. "I'd heard the compound didn't receive music." He gathered a thought from her and laughed. "You snuck out?" 

"Sneak is a strong word, Jon. I would say rather I left without notice."

"You're right, that sounds so much better. I guess they never found out?"

"No, they did not."

"Was it difficult for you to be on Earth under those circumstances?" he asked. "I can't imagine living in a compound. Even the word sounds uninviting."

"No, it was not difficult. After all, I was there on business."

He sighed. "I hope you don't take this personally, but Earth ambassadors live and eat among the people they are working and negotiating with. It's a way of understanding the culture they are dealing with. I often wondered why the Vulcans sequestered themselves away in Sausalito." He bit into his pasta.

"We wanted to prevent contamination of your culture and the bombardment of emotions onto us." She began to dig into her salad. "It is difficult to continuously be bombarded with emotions."

"With our mental link, you must be dealing with more emotions that usual," he said.

She hesitated and then took a bite of her salad. "Yes."

"T'Pol, I'm sorry ...." His hand reached out for hers. "Is it difficult?"

"There is no need to apologize," she said. "I meditate more frequently now." She touched his hand. 

He looked into her eyes. "Perhaps, you can help me to meditate some time," he said. "I would like to prevent some thoughts from ... bombarding ... you."

"Aisha, I would be honored. It is not meditation, but I have thought about teaching you some techniques to help you from having your thoughts being seen."

Jon looked up at her, "I don't need to hide thoughts from you."

She shook her head. "That is impractical. There are some thoughts you should hide from me." She finished her salad.

"Like?"

"Confidential Starfleet information, thoughts about other women, etc."

"Well, you don't have to worry about thoughts about other women," he said. He bit into his pasta.

"Perhaps not now, but before we were together, I would notice you admiring women," she said.

"Mostly you," he said, winking. 

"However, not just me," she said stoically.

He laughed. "Really? Well then, perhaps that would be useful," he chided. He ate more of his food, finishing the plate.

She seemed amused. His eyes twinkled at her. She wanted to take him in her arms and envelop his mouth with hers.

He looked up. "What's stopping you?"

"It appears I must also work on preventing thoughts from being seen by you," she said.

"Come here," he said. He motioned for her to sit on his lap.

She raised an eyebrow. 

"Come here," he said. She walked over and sat in his lap. He stroked her cheek and leaned in for a kiss. His mouth nipped at hers, teasing her lips. She put her hand in his hair and pulled his head to hers. As their lips touched, she stroked his first two fingers with hers. 

After a few minutes, T'Pol broke his embrace. She could feel the lustful thoughts rising in him and began to become swept away by them. Her cheeks flushed green. She quieted her breath and mind for a second. "Perhaps we should work straight away on controlling thoughts."

"I don't mind sharing those thoughts with you," he replied hoarsely. He swallowed deeply.

"You asked to slow our pace. Let me show you something that will help." She got up and gathered his hands in hers. He got up and followed her. She sat down cross-legged on the floor. He followed suit, as they faced each other.

"First, I want you to think a thought, but as a whisper," she said.

He nodded. 'Your eyes are beautiful, T'Pol.'

'Thank you. Your thoughts are still loud. Think of it as a gentle breeze – something that hovers and floats around you. Like this.'

Archer felt a faint thought from her. He couldn't quite make it out, but it seemed she was saying something about how green his eyes were.

He smirked and decided to try it again. 'Your scent is intoxicating, like nutmeg.'

She raised her eyebrow. 'Your thoughts are still very clear and quite distinguishable. Can you whisper your thoughts?' she asked.

'I can try,' he thought, imagining the words formed into smoke wafting above him. He asked aloud, "How was that?"

"Closer. Try to think of something you want to tell me, but whisper it to my mind. Think soft and gentle, like when our lips touch," she said. 

'I love you,' he thought.

She wrapped her hand around his face. 'Very good, aisha, I heard that as a whisper. I believe you understand this technique. Although I think it will take more time to master.'

He smiled. He kissed the palm of her hand. His eyes drifted to hers. She could feel his desire lurking. She withdrew her hand.

"Now, let's try hiding your thoughts from me. Try to think of many things at the same time."

His mind flashed through several images, some of twirling her around in his arms, a few involved enveloping her mouth with his, some involved pushing her over onto the floor and removing clothing, some fought a tall Vulcan male who looked like Koss, and still others imagined her on the bridge working as he stared at her contently.

She raised an eyebrow. "Very good. What were you thinking?" she asked.

'How surprised I am that you are with me.'

'That was excellent. I was unable to determine your thoughts. This is one technique to shield your thoughts from me. Both of these will take practice and time.'

He beamed.

"You are a quick learner," she said. She touched the cleft in his chin. 

He nipped at her finger, startling her. He smiled. "I have a good teacher." He paused. "I did mean what I thought about being surprised you're with me. Why did you break your engagement with Koss? Your feelings for him seem complex, as if you were very fond of him." 

She sighed. "Fond? Yes. A feeling that is perhaps deeper than friendship, but certainly not much more than that. It is not the feeling I have for you."

T'Pol leaned in, "Besides, I was not ready to cut short my time aboard this vessel."

He leaned over on all fours and kissed her cheek. He whispered as a thought, 'Have anything else you want to teach me?'

She felt her face flush again. 'I doubt I have much to teach you in that area, aisha. I would willingly be your student.'

He wagged his eyebrows. 'You're a fast learner,' he said. His lips met hers.

She ended their embrace. "You are an eager teacher. Learn this one more thing."

He nodded, trying to become serious and resumed his cross-legged position.

"Jon, I would like to distinguish thinking from talking." She paused. "I am able to do both at the same time; however, I am unsure whether you can achieve this or not."

He narrowed his eyes. "Come again?"

"Our physiology enables us to think two thoughts at once, sometimes more. I am unsure of yours."

"I don't know either."

'I will think several things at once and talk, I want you to answer my voice.'

"Okay," he said.

She unleashed many thoughts at once, while speaking. He heard three or four different and distinct voices from T'Pol, echoing off each other. One seemed like a whisper. One seemed like a yell. And two others seemed as if she spoke. He looked at her with confusion.

He shook his head. "I don't know."

"Let's try again."

She unleashed a few thoughts as she opened her mouth. This time there was a clear voice and two muffled ones. The clear voice asked if he was thirsty. "Are you thirsty?"

"Yes, I am thirsty," he said. His head was beginning to throb.

"It will take some getting used to. I suggest we end our education for tonight."

He rubbed his temples. The last part was the most difficult.

She read his thoughts. "The most challenging is distinguishing several different thoughts from my voice. But, it may happen, especially in a stressful situation."

Archer looked up at her. "This could happen on the bridge?" he clarified. 

"Yes, it is possible, but unlikely."

"Will I be able to hear anyone's voice, or just gather many of your thoughts?" he asked.

"I do not know."

"This seems like the one I should master first," he ordered, as if he were the captain. "I can't afford to be unable to hear the rest of the crew, or think, especially in a stressful situation. Let's focus on that next time."

She raised her eyebrow at his tone. "It is unlikely this will happen, but I would be ... happy ... to concentrate on this, Captain," she said. 

He dropped his head to his hand. "I'm sorry, T'Pol." He reached out and wrapped his hand around hers. "I'm concerned about this; I don't want to put the Enterprise in jeopardy." He exhaled slowly. "Would it be possible for you to refrain from thinking several thoughts at once if this was a stressful situation?" 

"Perhaps," she said. "I will make a concerted effort until you have mastered this."

He nodded, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry."

"I understand." She stood up. "Why don't you lay down on the bed. I have a technique to ease your tension," she said.

As he got up, he began to think about what she meant with a smile. T'Pol turned to him. "Really, Jonathan," she scolded.

He lay down on the bed, waiting. She instructed, "On your stomach." He lay flat on his stomach with his head turned to the side.

She began to massage his neck, back and head. He let a soft moan escape his lips. She pushed his turtleneck over his head. He let her maneuver it with a tinge of excitement.

She stroked his hair. "Relax," she said.

She worked her strong hands over him, kneading his muscular back, feeling his spine. He put his forearms under his chin and rested his head there. 

"I didn't realize Vulcans gave backrubs," he said. 

"Yes. It is used as a technique to aid in the birthing process," she explained.

Archer let out a small chortle.

"Aisha, quiet your mind," she instructed. He acquiesced, closing his eyes. "I thought perhaps this would help you to ease your headache. It is possible you could wake up with one tomorrow. I would not want that to happen."

"That feels really good," he said as he melted into her hands. 

She moved her hands over his sore neck and head. His breathing was slow and deep. Soon she heard a small snore.

Something inside her wanted to giggle at hearing this escape his lips. She caressed his hair and watched him while he slept. After about an hour, and as his snores got louder, she decided to leave.

Chapter Seven 

Jon woke up to his alarm after a fitful sleep. He rolled up, realizing he was still dressed in the trousers he had on last night. He smiled.

He took a shower, got dressed and headed to breakfast. He worked on whispering thoughts to T'Pol on the way to the mess hall.

As he walked in, he saw Trip with a large grin on his face, as if he were waiting for the captain to enter. Archer walked in and sat down.

"I take it the date went well?" Archer asked, throwing his napkin into his lap.

Trip's grin was wider. "Let's just say that girl can ...."

Archer interrupted, "Not the details." He didn't want to think of his communications officer in that way.

"I was gonna say pick movies, Cap'n," he said. He looked askance at Archer. He picked up a piece of bacon with his fingers and munched on it.

"So what did you decide about movie night?" asked Archer.

"Well, we thought we'd leave it up to the crew to give us anonymous feedback."

Archer raised his eyebrows. "Good idea."

T'Pol strolled in.

Archer tried not to pay too much attention to her, but couldn't stifle a smile to her.

"Good morning, Captain," she said.

"Hello," he said back. His eyes were glazing over again.

Trip took one look at his captain and knew there was something between his first officer and his captain. He looked back and forth at them, as they looked down. "You two have a good night last night?"

T'Pol shot her eyebrow up at Tucker. "It was enjoyable."

"What did you do?" he asked.

"Meditate," she explained.

He smiled, looked at Archer and then back at her. "What else?"

"Are you driving at something, Commander?" she asked.

He wiped the smile from his face. "No, I was just trying to be polite."

Archer changed the subject. "So, T'Pol, if you could see any movie, what would you want to see?"

She thought about it for a second. "I am unaware of most movies, as I prefer to read."

Archer smiled. He knew she was baiting Commander Tucker into a discussion. He turned back to his eggs.

"Are you sayin' you don't like movies?" Trip asked.

"No, I said I prefer reading," she said. "Don't you like to read?"

Archer chimed in. "He reads technical manuals all the time." He looked up at T'Pol and winked.

"Damn straight," Trip said.

T'Pol's eyes twinkled as if she were amused. "I stand corrected."

Archer laughed as Trip frowned. "Does your little romance mean you're ganging up against me?"

Archer looked at his friend, sobering his mood. "We're not having a romance."

"Like hell you're not. I've known you a long time, Jon. I know you and T'Pol are an item."

"No, we're not. And you can't discuss this with anyone. Understand?" he said.

"If you're not having an affair, why shouldn't I discuss it?" asked Trip.

"That's an order, Commander," said Archer. His eyes narrowed to show Trip he meant business.

Trip screwed up his face. "Can I ask why it's an order, sir?"

"No," said Archer.

"That's just great," said Trip. "All right, I'll play your little game. But, I don't like it. I don't think you should lie to the crew."

Archer continued to eat stone-faced.

"I believe I can assist. Jon, I was never asked not to discuss this."

Archer shook his head. "That's a technicality."

"Be so as it may," she sighed. Archer didn't stop her, but continued to eat as if he wasn't paying attention. "Yes, Commander Tucker, we are in a relationship," she affirmed. "I ... feel very strongly for Jon. He cannot discuss this with anyone on the crew. And, I would ask you not share this information with anyone, no matter who it is."

Trip looked at T'Pol with newfound respect. "Thanks for being honest with me."

Archer shook his head. 'T'Pol, are you sure that was wise?' he thought. 'Starfleet gave me a direct order.'

'No, I am not sure it was wise,' she thought. 'But, it seemed the ... correct course of action. Besides, I am not in Starfleet; I do not follow the same rules.'

She continued aloud, "Jon did not want to lie to you, or the crew. There were diplomatic reasons he was asked to disavow our relationship. Admiral Forrest seemed concerned that I would be recalled, or Archer would be asked to step down, which could prevent the Vulcans from helping your people with further space exploration." She paused. "And, I agree with his assessment."

Trip was shocked at her honesty. "I see. So, what's next for the two of you?" he asked, talking directly to T'Pol, as Archer ate.

"We are unsure at this moment. I am deeply committed to him," she said looking up at Archer. 

Archer smiled and set down his fork. "I feel the same way." 

Trip was glad to hear a little acknowledgment. "Well, you don't have to worry about me telling anyone. But, I think there are a few crewmen who already have it in their minds something is going on."

T'Pol nodded. "I imagine Ensign Sato has."

Trip was startled. "Yeah, how'd you know?"

"It is logical. She is very perceptive."

Trip nodded. "She sure is."

"How did your ... date go?" asked T'Pol.

Trip looked at Archer who shrugged. Trip turned back to T'Pol. "I never kiss and tell."

T'Pol looked confused. "I did not ask of your exploits, Commander."

Archer chuckled and was startled by the time. "I've got to get to the bridge." He walked over and kissed T'Pol, whispering in her ear, "I'll see you soon."

Trip's mouth hung open as he watched after the door. He turned to the Vulcan. "So, you getting married or what?"

Chapter Eight 

As Archer walked into the turbolift, Hoshi's voice came over the speaker, "Bridge to Captain Archer."

"Archer here. What's up?" he asked.

"A vessel is approaching and has hailed us, Captain."

The doors to the bridge swished open. "Is the UT activated?" asked Archer.

Hoshi nodded. "Aye, sir."

"On screen."

An image of an Orion came on.

"Sir, they have their phase cannons open," said Lt. Reed.

"Polarize hull plating, stand down weapons," said Archer.

The Orion began to speak slowly. "My name is Captain Gerok. My associates and I are in need of medical supplies and would like to negotiate a trade."

"My name is Captain Jonathan Archer of the USS Enterprise," said Archer. "I didn't catch your affiliation, do you represent commercial interests or the Orion government?"

"I did not say, Captain," said Gerok. "I have not run into your kind before ...."

"We're called Humans and come from the planet Earth."

"Earth? I have not heard of this."

Archer smiled. "I imagine you haven't. I'll need to check with my doctor to determine if we have enough supplies to trade. What are you offering for these supplies?"

"Weapons," said Gerok.

Archer raised his eyebrows. "Please download your trade request into a data burst."

"I need to know soon," said Gerok.

Archer raised his eyebrows. "Why's that?" Archer had a gut feeling this guy was on the run.

"We need those supplies quickly. I will give you five minutes," said Gerok.

Archer didn't like being threatened. "Or what?" he asked, calling his bluff.

"Five minutes," said Gerok and the screen went dark. 

"Lt. Reed, scan to see if his ship has been in battle recently and see if there are any ships in our long-range scans."

"Ensign Sato, ask Sub commander T'Pol to get to the bridge. And, see if Commander Tucker has already begun taking the engines offline."

"Aye, sir," she said.

"Archer to Dr. Phlox," said Archer after punching the com on his chair.

"Phlox here."

"We should be receiving a data burst with a request for medical supplies. I'd like you to take a look at those supplies and determine whether we can spare them ... and why they may be depleted on another ship."

"Certainly," said Phlox.

T'Pol walked onto the bridge. Archer smiled over at her. "Good. Archer out."

"Ensign Sato, any word from Trip?" he asked.

"No, I'm receiving the data burst."

"Good, send it to Dr. Phlox right away."

"Captain, this Orion cruiser was in battle recently," said Reed. "It looks like part of their ship is still in need of repair."

"Sir, Orion pirates are known for their treachery, I would proceed with caution," said T'Pol. 'It is unlikely they will be satisfied only with our medical supplies,' she thought.

"Understood," he said. 'They would attack anyway?' he asked as a thought.

'Undoubtedly, and they have more fire power,' thought T'Pol.

"Archer to Commander Tucker, I need to know the status of our engines," said Archer.

"Trip here. Cap'n, we have a small problem with the relays we took offline this morning. We'll need about thirty minutes to fix it."

"I don't know if we have that long. Any way you can speed up the process?" 

"Not unless you can make miracles happen, sir."

"Work as quickly as possible," said Archer. He switched off the com.

"Phlox to Archer."

"Go ahead."

"The supplies they're asking for are common place. I would assume they ran through these by natural means, sir," said Dr. Phlox.

"Do we have those supplies to spare?" asked Archer.

"We have some, but not all."

"Send the list of what we can spare to Ensign Sato. Archer out." Archer spun around. "Lt. Reed, I'd like you to look at the weapons list."

Hoshi transferred the information to his station.

Lt. Reed reviewed them. He looked up. "Sir, we do need some of the weapons they are suggesting."

"Do they look stolen?" he asked.

"Absolutely," said Reed, looking the captain in the eye. "There's little chance this crew would have the complement of weapons described in that data burst, sir."

"Give both sets of information to Hoshi," instructed Archer.

Hoshi looked up from her station. "Sir, they're hailing us."

He nodded as Hoshi worked her hands over the controls. "Captain, will you agree to a trade?" he asked.

"We've been unable to review the trading terms and log them."

"Will you trade or not, Captain?" asked Gerok.

"I can't give you a verbal agreement, until I review the trading terms," said Archer.

Gerok huffed. "Surely you've had ample time to determine if you need these weapons and whether you have the supplies," said Gerok.

"As we represent our government, we have some protocols in place that slow down this process. My crew tells me it will take another thirty minutes or so."

Gerok curled his lip in disgust. T'Pol rose her eyebrow. 'Excellent ruse,' she thought to Archer.

"I can agree to twenty minutes and no more," he said.

Archer looked at the screen. "Why the hurry?"

"I'm sure that beautiful Vulcan behind you has told you," he said.

Archer looked at T'Pol and then turned back to the screen. "Actually, she's said very little."

Gerok nodded, "I have always wanted to go to bed with a Vulcan. I have heard they are quite extraordinary lovers." He smiled repulsively, "I could drive her mad with passion, even if it was not time for her Pon Farr."

Archer raised his eyebrows, biting the inside of his cheek. T'Pol began to focus. 'Aisha, ignore his comments. They are of no consequence to me. Orions are sexually charged. He means no disrespect.'

The other crewmembers on the bridge looked aghast, switching their focus from Archer, T'Pol and to the screen. Hoshi understood the term Pon Farr and looked at the Captain to yell at the screen.

Archer was angry. "We don't treat the women on board that way," he quipped. He paced around the bridge for a moment. "They are equals to us. And Sub commander T'Pol is an officer, as well as a friend of mine. Your comments to her were inappropriate." 

"Then she belongs to you?" asked Gerok.

"She doesn't belong to anyone," said Archer, angrily. He wanted to say she was his, but couldn't.

"I hope I did not offend. I find Vulcans extremely beautiful, because they are so untouchable. And, I must tell you, she is one of the most beautiful I have ever seen," he said.

'Aisha, do not concentrate on his words,' thought T'Pol loudly. Archer wasn't sure if she'd said it aloud. He looked at her with confusion and she shook her head, nodding toward the screen.

"We'll need thirty minutes to read and log the terms," said Archer.

"While your reports enter this information, you must come aboard and see the Orion women. They are known throughout the galaxy."

"I thought you were out of time?" asked Archer.

"It seems I now have some," said Gerok.

Archer stated, "I appreciate your offer, but ...."

T'Pol interrupted, 'Jon, it would wise to join him. Orions rarely invite people on board. He may take offense.'

Archer looked at T'Pol. He turned to them and nodded. "But, it seems I have some free time. I accept your invitation."

Gerok smiled. "Excellent. Bring your sub commander."

Archer began to decline when T'Pol stepped forward. "I graciously accept your offer."

Gerok wiped his lips. "This is most excellent. I anticipate your arrival in an hour."

Archer was about to speak when he saw a black screen. He looked back at T'Pol. "Can I see you in my ready room?" he asked through clenched teeth.

She nodded. As soon as the door swished shut, Archer laid into her. "What the hell do you think you're doing?! If you go there, Captain Jerk will probably try to take advantage of you. You didn't even consult with me!"

She raised her eyebrow. "Captain Gerok," she corrected. "Try to be logical. Orions rarely ask anyone aboard their vessel. To be invited is an honor. Starfleet wanted to set up positive relations with other cultures, I would submit to you that an Orion alliance is pivotal to Earth. In addition, you will have time to make the necessary repairs."

He threw up his arms. "Logical? They don't even represent the Orion government!" He paced. "Did you hear what I just said? He wants to take advantage of you!" said Archer angrily. "You're not going. I didn't agree to that decision."

"Hardly anyone represents the Orion government. Unlike Earth it is run by a group of warlords. It is wise to make friends with some," she explained. "I believe you are making an emotional decision, rather than a rational one," she stated. "As my captain, you should not be concerned about passes and flirtations an Orion might make."

"Unbelievable," he said, putting his hand through his hair. "As my first officer, you should never make a decision unless I agree to it. It's protocol to talk with my first. You used to follow that protocol."

"I would make this recommendation to you regardless of our relationship. Can you say the same to me?" she asked.

"I don't know," he said. "But, when you're on my bridge, you talk with me before making decisions. Got it?"

She held up her chin. "Yes, I understand, Captain. Is that all?" 

He exhaled deeply and rubbed his neck. He nodded his head in the affirmative. 

As she turned around to walk out, he grabbed her arm. "Wait a minute."

She looked at him. "Yes?"

"As your captain, I want to be consulted. But, yes, as your lover I have qualms about you going. I don't want him to touch you." He paused. "As your captain, I feel he has disrespected an officer and a friend. As your bondmate, I want to punch him in the face."

"It is difficult being both my captain and my mate in this instance, is it not?"

"Very," he said.

She pursed her lips together. "As your first officer, I think it is best that I go. It seems my attendance would help the ship and Earth. As your mate, I also have qualms about going and would feel a certain ... satisfaction for you to do violence to him. And, I want you to be successful."

He smiled. "Aisha, I think we had our first fight."

"We have had many such arguments before."

"But, not since we started ... seeing each other," he explained.

She raised her eyebrow. "I do not wish to have others."

He smiled. "It's difficult to avoid, but I don't want to either." He held out two fingers, which she met with her own. He wanted to kiss her deeply, but instead broke contact with her. 

"As your captain, I accept your recommendation to accompany me. Although I'd like you to stick closely with me."

She inclined her head. "As your first officer, I apologize for not consulting you and am relieved you are taking my recommendation."

He smiled. "As your captain, I know I acted irrationally. I'm sorry for yelling at you." 

"Your apology is accepted."

He looked at her. "Do you have any other recommendations, Sub commander?"

"The Orion did not invite anyone else. Although I would not normally suggest this, I recommend only the two of us attend."

He nodded. "Lt. Reed no doubt will have a few choice words to say about that, but I agree. I doubt we'll be there overnight. Can you leave immediately in shuttle pod one?"

"Yes, but I think our meeting will be more successful if I change attire."

"T'Pol, you're saying you want to look more alluring, aren't you?" he asked.

"Yes," she responded.

He hung his head against his chest and took a deep breath, looking back at her. "Okay, Sub commander. Can you meet me at the docking bay in fifteen minutes?"

"Yes," she responded. "And, Jon?"

"Yes?" he asked.

"Do not feel the need to be overly protective. I am faster and stronger than he is."

"Yes. I'm sure you are," he nodded.

"One more thing," she commented. "The Orion women set off a highly powerful pheromone. You will undoubtedly be affected by it. But as your mate, I would want you to try and restrain yourself."

"It's nice to know I am not the only jealous one," he said. He kissed her, despite the breach in protocol.

"Fifteen minutes," he said. As she turned around, he patted her on the behind.

She turned around and raised her eyebrow. He grinned as the door swished open.

Chapter Nine 

Archer and T'Pol stepped off the shuttle and into the docking station of the Orion ship. Archer looked around. Gerok speedily walked over. He was shorter than Archer, at about 5'10", but still taller than T'Pol. He was handsome, with curly black hair and black eyes. His complexion was deep green. He looked much younger than before, possibly if he were from Earth, he'd be in his late twenties.

"Captain, it is a pleasure to meet you," said Gerok. 

Archer extended his hand. "Thank you for having me aboard." 

Gerok shook his hand and quickly turned his attention to T'Pol, who was dressed in a shimmering blue robe, traditional of the Vulcan people on special occasions.

"Sub commander?" he asked. "You are more lovely in person." He kissed her hand, even though he knew better.

She thought he was not unattractive. "The same applies to you."

Archer curled his lip into a snarl. 

'Aisha, control your temper,' thought T'Pol. She made her hand into the sign of a "v" and bowed her head. "Greetings," she said. "I am T'Pol."

Gerok smiled. "Please follow me," he said. He took them down the corridors. "We have prepared a banquet for you."

Archer inserted himself between T'Pol and Gerok as they moved down the hall. The ship was a strange design, definitely not built for luxury. Exposed steel, or a similar substance, was prevalent throughout the ship.

Archer could hear the strange music, like a pipe, accordion and a drum, as it wafted down the hall. As he entered the room, he was shocked to see green women with black hair and ruby lips dancing on tables wearing flimsy white togas. Several men were clapping as the women shook their hips.

Gerok pointed at the women and turned to Archer. "Orion women are exotic, are they not?" 

"Yes," he said blankly as he stared at them. He wet his lips.

'Aisha, their pheromones are quite overpowering. Be careful," she said. He looked at her realizing he was staring at them. He coughed. He looked around the room noting that it was barren of women, except those that were dancing.

"Orion women do not have the same equality?" asked Archer.

"Of course not. They are women," stated Gerok. He looked at T'Pol and smiled. "Not every woman is Vulcan -- beautiful and intelligent. Our women are simply beautiful."

Archer was about to debate that comment, when T'Pol spoke up. "This is a rare ... treat ... to invite us to a banquet. I have known few Vulcans who were honored with such a privilege."

"It seemed the right thing to do – our first contact with the Humans. And a perfect opportunity to have you here," said Gerok.

Archer rolled his eyes, as T'Pol spoke up. "It is an honor indeed."

"This way, near the stage. I've arranged this for Captain Archer," said Gerok pointing at a table.

Archer furrowed his brow. As they neared the stage, Jon had trouble concentrating on the discussion and began staring at the stage. Gerok was right about one thing, the Orion women were quite exotic – almost savage looking. 

Gerok began to talk with T'Pol. "What is a Vulcan doing aboard a vessel with ... Humans?"

T'Pol answered, "I was assigned by my government."

One of the Orion women walked off the stage and sat in Archer's lap. Her jet-black hair touched his cheek. He caught a whiff of something that smelled like cherry blossoms, reminding him of San Francisco. The woman traced her long, red fingernail along his chin, dipping it into the cleft and then running over the form of his lips. He shivered.

"Listen, I'm flattered, but I ah ...," began Archer.

"Captain?" asked T'Pol. He could tell from the bond, she was annoyed at his distraction. 

He looked at T'Pol, as the Orion woman left his lap and stood up. 

He swallowed deeply. He felt foolish. He was obviously not interested in the Orion women, but he had trouble keeping his mind on business or anything else for that matter. His body was starting to react as well. He crossed his legs.

T'Pol raised her eyebrow.

Gerok laughed. "It seems your species finds these women pleasing. The one who was here a moment ago seems interested in you, Captain. Would you like to invite her over?"

Archer looked at T'Pol and then back at Gerok. "I'm not really interested in any of them, thanks."

Gerok nodded. "We have some handsome young men ...."

Archer's face dropped, "No, no. You misunderstand. I'm just not interested in ... recreation right now."

"Is that typical for Humans?"

Archer scratched his head. "No, not if they're in a relationship."

"You are monogamous?" he asked.

Archer raised his eyebrows; this conversation was getting more unnerving. "Me personally, yes. My species is fairly monogamous. And, I suppose yours isn't?"

Gerok smiled. "Of course not; that's so simplistic." He looked over at T'Pol. "But, I know T'Pol's is very focused on one mate."

Jon couldn't help smiling.

"Orions, Captain, are very ... what was the word you used ... recreational," said Gerok. He leaned over and let his face rest against his chin. "Tell me, T'Pol, are you mated?"

Archer looked over at her. 

"Are you inquiring on your behalf?" she asked. Archer was impressed; no one could evade a question like she could.

Gerok grinned. "Oh, definitely. I know it is outside of Pon Farr, but I have heard Vulcans mate outside those cycles."

"I do not wish to be rude, but Vulcans do not talk of this with off-worlders," she said. "We prefer to keep our mating habits a mystery." She raised an eyebrow and flirted. "Perhaps it adds to our appeal."

Archer frowned.

Gerok laughed. "Indeed." He nudged Archer. "I don't suppose you've heard any strange noises inside her cabin from time-to-time?" he asked with a laugh.

Archer sneered internally. "What brings you out here, Captain Gerok?"

T'Pol looked up. 'Although you may be uncomfortable, it is typical to let the Orions lead the conversation., aisha,' thought T'Pol.

"Your people must be prudes, Captain," said Gerok. "Even your lovely Vulcan here allows me to continue to talk about matters which displease her."

Archer shook his head. "We're not exactly prudes, we just feel there is a time and a place for everything." He paused. "And my first officer is much more skilled at diplomacy. I've come to learn she is more open-minded than I am."

Gerok nodded as the same Orion woman danced in front of Archer. Her hands combed through his hair. Archer crossed his legs and looked at T'Pol, trying to concentrate. The woman put her lips to his neck, running them down his jugular.

'This is killing me,' Archer thought to T'Pol. His eyes were definitely wanton as he tried to hold T'Pol's gaze. He felt his libido was in overdrive. Something about these women seemed like a drug. Archer thought about being alone with T'Pol.

T'Pol pushed her hair behind her ear. "Gerok, the captain can continue to give you information about the sexual exploits of his people, but that is not what you are here to discuss."

Gerok smiled. "You are very clever. Of course, it is a distraction to have you here."

T'Pol inclined her head. "You do me too much honor."

"No, my dear, not enough," Gerok said, as he ventured to touch her hand. 

Archer began to get up from the table. "Listen, Gerok, I've had just about enough of ...."

T'Pol spoke up, withdrawing her hand. "Being thirsty. I think the captain would like a drink. Would you bring both of us one? I will drink what you would like, Gerok."

The Orion man smiled and scurried off toward the bar. 

Archer looked at her. "No way. I'm ready to go." He leaned in. "One more crack outta Gerok and I swear I'm going to hit him."

T'Pol looked into his eyes. "How much time have we given Enterprise?"

"Twenty minutes. I don't think we should continue, T'Pol." 

"The Enterprise needs another ten. I would not think that would be a problem," she said.

Archer sighed. "Ten and we're out of here, deal or no deal." Archer took out his communicator.

"I thought you were at least amusing yourself with the dancers," she chided.

He winced and opened his communicator. "Archer to Enterprise."

"Enterprise here, Captain," said Reed.

"Commander Tucker's repairs?" he asked.

"He's cutting it close to the wire, sir. They've run into more problems than they've expected."

Archer shook his head. "Did he say how much longer he may need?"

"Possibly up to an hour, Captain."

"Have you looked at the trade agreement terms?"

"Yes, sir."

"Would it be your recommendation that we begin trading?" asked Archer, eager to leave.

"Yes, sir. The agreements seem, quite normal. I'm concerned about the stolen weapons."

"Agreed," said Archer. "Let's only agree to trade the ones you know aren't stolen. Create that list and provide it to the Orions."

"Aye, sir," said Reed.

"I'd like you to work on the trading in ten minutes or so," said Archer. "And, let's encourage Commander Tucker to complete the repairs."

"Yes, sir. I'll contact you when we've begun trading."

"Thanks. Archer out."

Gerok walked back. "I know Vulcans do not like alcohol, but I thought this time might be an exception."

She raised her eyebrow. "Vulcans can drink, but we prefer our minds to remain clear." She raised the glass that he brought her and took a sip.

Gerok smiled. "Captain?" he asked providing him one.

Archer looked askance at T'Pol and took a drink. "This is quite good. What's this called?" asked Archer. 

"Romulan ale," said Gerok.

T'Pol thought, 'Sip that, Jon. The symptoms of drunkenness come late. You may become intoxicated without realizing it.'

Archer nodded. "Thank you, Gerok, it's quite good."

As the stage emptied, the dancer from before came to sit at their table.

"L'Rang, this is Captain Archer and his lovely first officer T'Pol," introduced Gerok.

T'Pol looked a little concerned. "Gerok, forgive me, but you were talking about why you invited us here."

L'Rang began rubbing her leg against Archer's. He scooted his chair away, but looked distracted.

"Was I?" asked Gerok.

T'Pol raised an eyebrow. "Perhaps we should go," she said, turning to Archer.

Archer looked confused and thought, 'You just insisted that we stay?' L'Rang ran her hand along his chest. He looked at the Orion women with consternation.

T'Pol thought, 'I believe you call this ... bluffing, Jon. Jon?'

He looked at T'Pol. 'I'm all for leaving.'

Gerok stopped her. "Wait pretty one. You seem eager to talk business, T'Pol." He turned to Archer. "Our ship was badly damaged. I would like your assistance repairing it."

Archer sipped his drink. "How did it become damaged?"

Gerok frowned. "I know you are aware we have been in battle recently."

T'Pol spoke up. "I believe he was inquiring with whom you were in battle."

"A Klingon battle cruiser. It seems they are expanding their territory. I was in free space, but they insisted it belonged to them, and began firing." He drank. "Klingons don't fire warning shots."

T'Pol nodded. "What would make the Klingons violate boundaries in space and possibly trade agreements with you?"

"A new Klingon government. One bent on owning their area of the universe. Did you hear they claimed Xolax II?"

T'Pol looked at Archer. "Captain, the Klingons have wanted this mine for centuries. It gives them the materials they need to increase their fleet." She looked back at the Orion. "But, Gerok, why now?"

"I don't know. The rumor is that they traded secrets to the Tholians for that area," he explained.

Archer shook his head. "The Tholians?" he asked. 'T'Pol, I wonder if this is about the temporal cold war and our recent dealings with them and the man we found from the future,' thought Archer.

'Possibly, although I am still not convinced he is from the future. And we will never have that data now,' said T'Pol. 

Archer smiled. 'You said that Humans and Vulcans mating had a better chance of happening than time travel.'

T'Pol raised her eyebrow. 'Perhaps I was mistaken.'

Archer leaned in, "Gerok, we know you outgun us. What assurance do we have that you won't attack?"

Gerok laughed. "Captain, although my people may be unpredictable, we are not sneaky. Besides, what assurance do we have you will not run off? Your ship is faster."

T'Pol spoke up. "What would we get in return?" she asked.

Gerok motioned to L'Rang. Archer shook his head. 

Jon scratched his chin. "I'm not interested in people as compensation."

L'Rang stood up and sat in his lap. "I am skilled in many things," she said.

Archer was having trouble thinking. He managed to stammer, "Oh, I'm ... I'm sure you are. Humans don't believe in trading, buying or selling people. People are not objects," he said. He gently pushed her off his lap. She walked around and stood behind him, twirling his hair in her fingers.

Gerok shook his head. "What would you like, Captain? We have little to offer."

Archer shook his head and tried to smooth his hair down. "That's not true. Your friendship is important to my people."

Gerok laughed. "I do not represent the Orion government."

T'Pol said, "Does anyone from Orion represent the government?"

Gerok laughed heartily. "Too true, pretty Vulcan. Very well, Captain Archer, you will have my friendship. Although, I'm not certain I trust a man who asks for friendship and turns down an Orion dancer."

Archer smiled. His communicator went off. "Pardon me," he said. He stood up and walked away from the table. L'Rang walked back behind the stage, to prepare for the next number.

"So, is Captain Archer your mate?" asked Gerok to T'Pol.

She cocked her eyebrow. "Why do you say that?"

"What kind of a man turns down a dancer, ignoring her almost completely, and stares at you all night?" he asked.

"By that definition, Gerok, you would be my mate," said T'Pol.

"You are very good," he responded. "I won't ask anymore about it."

"Thank you," she responded.

"Since it seems your ship will be here a while, perhaps I can give you a tour of the ship?" he asked.

"Tomorrow would be preferable," she explained.

Archer turned back to the table. "One of my officers has begun the trading process. He sent the data burst to you of what supplies we'll agree to trade. Why don't you take a couple of hours to look over it?"

Gerok nodded. "Thank you," he said. "The repairs we need, our engines ... when will you be able to help us."

"I'll ask my Engineer to come over as soon as possible," said Archer.

"Excellent. I appreciate your help. T'Pol and I were discussing taking a tour of the ship tomorrow," said Gerok.

T'Pol looked over at him. "That is of course your decision, sir."

He smiled. "I think that's a great suggestion. Tomorrow at 1000?" he asked.

"Good," said Gerok.

Archer said, "I need to get back to my ship. Sub commander, care to join me?"

"By all means," she said.

Gerok escorted them to the docking bay.

Chapter Ten 

Archer felt like running back to his cabin with T'Pol. As they walked down the corridor, he was amused her small steps were lagging so far behind. She was much smaller than he was, reaching only 5'6". He smiled.

As he reached his room before her, he had just enough time to contact Malcolm and ask him to be in charge for the next hour, while he ... rested. He also mentioned that he'd ordered T'Pol to rest as well.

When T'Pol entered his room, he grabbed her and began kissing down her neck, even before the door shut. His passion was unyielding and urgent.

"I thought you wanted to take our relationship slower," she said.

"I don't know if I can, especially not now," he replied. His lips enveloped hers as he put his hands through her hair.

He was tugging at her robes, but a little unsure how to work them from her green skin. She didn't offer any assistance. "Jon, you still seem to be affected by the pheromones the Orion women gave off. I ran some scans in the shuttle and it appears your species is greatly affected."

"I suggested we take care of this problem in the shuttle," he said moving his fingers over the folds of her robes unable to work them off.

She raised her eyebrow at the intensity of his passion. "That was impossible."

As his hand reached her hip, he was thinking in Vulcan; the word "guv-kanashivaya" continued to dance along his brain. He decided instead to kick off his shoes and unzip his uniform, as he cornered her against the wall.

T'Pol hung her mouth open at the vulgarity of what he was saying and thinking in a language she was certain he didn't understand or know how to speak. 

His teeth were nibbling at her ear. He stepped out of his uniform and held her to him. She could tell just how eager he was.

"Aisha, we're due on the bridge," she protested.

"No, we're not. Well, at least not for another hour," he said. He kissed her neck, rubbing his hand down her garment. He whispered, "Why don't you help me with this?"

"Jon, are you sure you want to shirk your responsibilities so that we can be together?" she asked. "Admiral Forrest indicated he did not want you to do this."

He was incredibly turned on. He thought even a cold shower sounded kind of sexy in a way. He couldn't even break contact with T'Pol. He kissed her collarbone. "It's not uncommon to rest after an away mission."

"I do not think you have done it before," she said.

He took off his shirt. "What's really bothering you? That this might be the result of pheromones?"

She didn't say anything. 

"Aisha, don't block your thoughts. Let me see them," he cooed.

Her thoughts were just as passionate, if not more so. But, he could sense a concern that he would not live up to his word. He would break a protocol he agreed to.

Feeling that she was equally aroused made him try to work quickly at her clothes. He felt like he would rip them, when she began to guide his hands over the folds, helping her get undressed.

"We can be speedy," he whispered. Her robes fell to the floor.

Her mouth was kissing his chest. "Yes."

He moaned and picked her up, putting her on the bed. 

As he kissed her the com went off. Archer grunted. He got up and punched the panel, panting, "Archer."

"Captain, we just located another Orion ship in the area," said Reed.

"I'll be right there," he said. He turned to T'Pol who was nude. "Want to meet me on the bridge in ten minutes?" he asked, looking at his lover splayed out on the bed. He began to sweat.

She shook her head. "I can change more quickly."

He nodded. He began to put on his clothes, which was uncomfortable given his level of arousal. He tried taking a few deep breaths. 

As she stood, he walked to her and found himself kissing her, groping at her naked body.

"Jon, you are scheduled to be on the bridge." She knew the pheromones were indeed affecting him. He seemed unnaturally aroused. 

He nodded and before he could turn around, gathered her into his arms. He licked up her neck. 

She broke his contact with some force, shoving him back into the door. "Captain, you should attend the bridge."

He nodded, and stumbled out of the door as if he was drunk. He was certain his uniform was clinging to him as he suppressed the idea of looking at women aboard the vessel on the way to the turbolift.

He began to sweat more profusely. He wiped his brow with the back of his hand. As he entered the bridge, he could tell the situation was tense. He tried to gather his wits. 

"Status, Mr. Reed?" he asked. Archer found himself staring at Hoshi. He wiped his brow and looked back at his armory officer.

"Captain, we received a hail," said Reed. His eyes narrowed as he noticed Archer was having trouble focusing.

Hoshi turned to them. "Would you like me to put it on screen, sir?"

"Yes, Hoshi," said Archer. He hardly ever used her first name on the bridge. He sat down.

She raised her brows at him and began to work her fingers over the console. 

Another Orion showed. "I am Pynndock V'Rtor. Vessel, stop your trade. You are dealing with a criminal. The Klingons and the Orion Eastern Federated Republic find A'nnntok Gerok has violated the rule of trade."

"This is Captain Archer of the starship Enterprise. I am unfamiliar with the trading agreements you have already established," said Archer.

"I would like your ship to discontinue trading," he said.

"We're not part of this conflict. Besides our trading has completed. If you let me ...." 

Just as that line was delivered, a blast came from V'Rtor's ship to Gerok's. Archer had time to belt out, "Polarize hull plating," before the shockwave reached the ship. Reed was barely able to carry out the request in time. As the ship lurched, Archer spat, "Tactical alert. Arm phase cannons and ready for my signal," he said. His mind was still in a fog. 

"Aye, sir," said Reed carrying out the orders.

"Archer to Engineering," said Archer.

He could hear scrambling as the senior Engineer, Foster, opened the com. "Sir, the shockwaves just undid the repairs we made." 

Archer looked over at T'Pol who just entered the bridge. She looked beautiful. Her cheeks were bright green, a mark left over from his desire of her. She was feeling his thoughts through their link. He wet his lips.

"Captain?" asked Foster.

"How long to repair?" he asked, still looking at his mate with want.

'Aisha, the pheromones the Orion dancers released have greatly affected you," she thought, looking at the sweat now dripping off his brow. His hair was slightly damp.

He shook his head trying to stay focused. 

"Don't know, maybe thirty minutes," said Foster. "Sir, I wish Commander Tucker was aboard."

Archer sighed. He looked at Reed. "Can we transport him back to the ship?"

Another shot was fired from the Orion Eastern Federated Republic ship. Archer barked, "Hang on."

The blast caused another shockwave that caused lights to blink across T'Pol's and Reed's station.

"Sir, the last shockwave again affected the Engineering section," said T'Pol. "I am receiving calls from that section that the anti-matter reactor is offline. These repairs will take hours."

"Ensign Mayweather, I'd like to put some distance between us and them. Since we don't have warp, let's use our impulse engines to get out of the line of fire," said Archer. 

"Aye, sir," said Mayweather who began to take them out of range.

'Aisha, I may be able to help the Engineering department bring their systems online faster,' she thought. 'The Vulcans have perfected a way to bypass certain relays and prepare a 'cold' engine start ...."

He looked at her. His uniform was starting to soak through. He wanted to press his body into hers. Just thinking about her against him, made him shiver. He nodded slowly. 

"Sub commander, please see if you can give Lt. Foster a hand," he said.

She nodded and walked to the turbolift.

"Captain, the Orion Eastern Federated Republic has also targeted us," said Lt. Reed. 

He wiped the sweat from his brow again. The ship lurched forward, as Archer nearly fell to his feet. He felt a certain unusual quietness of his mind. He searched for T'Pol, but felt nothing. He thought maybe he was imagining it.

Reed looked up. "Sir, there's a small section of the ship that was hit."

Archer looked at him. "Casualties?" he asked.

"Don't know, but several are wounded," he said.

"How many?"

"Twenty. Apparently there was a shift change for Engineering. People were caught between the turbolift and that section."

Archer looked panicked. He felt his stomach tighten up. "Has Phlox already been summoned to that area?" he asked. He called T'Pol's name in his mind and received no answer. He sat down.

"Yes," said Reed.

"Which ship hit us?" asked Archer. 

"V'Rtor's, sir," said Reed.

Archer sighed. "Fire phase cannons at them," said Archer. He didn't want to enter this conflict but felt he needed to protect his ship.

"Archer to Commander Tucker," he said.

"Tucker here, sir."

"You okay?" he asked. 

"Well, other than getting' our butts kicked, sure. The engine here is really messed up. It'll take me about two hours to help restore the Orion ship."

"Trip, we had a small accident near Engineering," he said gently.

"How many?" he asked, understanding the comment.

"The recent count is twenty," he said. "I'm sorry," said Archer sinking into his seat. He called out to T'Pol again.

"Crewmen injured in critical condition: 2. Crewmen listed in poor: 1. Most other crewmen are stable and sustained minor injuries," called Reed.

Archer knew T'Pol was one of the two critically hurt. "Who's in critical condition?"

"Ensign Carter and Sub commander T'Pol," said Reed.

Archer felt like throwing up. He punched the com "Foster, I need to know how close you are to getting those engines ready," said Archer.

"Don't know, sir. The chaos of the new shift may put us behind."

"What can I do to ensure you get those online as soon as possible?" asked Archer.

Another shot was fired from V'Rtor's ship. 

"Hang on," ordered Reed. 

Archer gripped the sides of his command chair as the ship bucked against another shockwave. 

"Return fire," said Archer.

Hoshi looked up. "Sir, it appears that V'Rtor's ship is crippled based on their subspace messages. It might be a distress signal."

Reed confirmed. "Aye, sir. They are adrift."

Archer turned to Hoshi. "Put me through to Gerok."

She nodded. Gerok appeared onscreen. He had a small cut on his forehead and smoke was billowing in the background.

"Gerok, I understand the other Orion vessel is adrift."

"It is," said Gerok. "Thank you for your assistance."

Archer nodded. "I assume our supplies made it aboard your vessel?"

"Yes. And our weapons?" asked Gerok.

"Yes," said Archer.

"Where's your lovely Vulcan?" he asked.

"Sickbay," said Archer. He felt sick again. His mind called out to her without response.

"It appears our friendship will have to be cut short," said Gerok.

"We are unable to leave the area. I need my Engineer back."

Gerok nodded. "Our systems are mostly online. We can handle the rest of the repairs."

Reed interrupted. "Captain, three Orion ships are appearing."

Gerok looked at his officer. "Captain Archer, it turns out the ships are part of our faction," he said with a smile.

Archer looked relieved. "Thank God for small favors."

Gerok shook his head. "I hope your Vulcan is okay."

Archer nodded. "Me, too." He called out to her again without response.

Trip came on the screen. "Sir, I'll take Shuttlepod one back. Considering the circumstances, I'd like to hurry up and get back."

Archer nodded. Gerok said, "Thank you. Although our friendship is cut short, it's not over." The screen went black.

"Stand down tactical alert, Lt. Reed. But, continue to watch long-range scanners to see if a ship is in the vicinity."

He agreed. "Aye, sir."

"I'm going to sickbay. You have the bridge, Malcolm." He entered the turbolift. The doors swished shut.

Chapter Eleven 

As the turbolift began to move, Archer felt like he'd been hit by a lightning bolt. He could feel T'Pol's presence and her incredible pain. Archer's body smacked into the wall as if he was unable to breath. He slid down it, gasping for air. 

As the doors opened, Cutler saw the captain huddled on the floor. She offered a hand to help him up. "Sir?" she asked.

He knew he was going to be sick. He felt a series of images fly through T'Pol's mind. He felt dizzy. 

"Cutler?" he asked.

She managed to grab onto him and lift him to his feet, before he passed out.

When he woke up, he was in sickbay, looking at Dr. Phlox hovering over him. "Captain Archer, are you all right?" 

Archer felt he was going to be sick again, but managed to keep it down. "Yes," he said. He looked around at his injured crewmen. 

Phlox put a reassuring hand on him. "Mostly burns, cuts and bruises. The most serious is T'Pol and Carter. Carter's in stable condition. A metal rod went through their abdomens. I've welded the rod to separate the patients."

Archer rolled onto his side to throw up. Phlox managed to jab a hypospray into his neck before the bile left his stomach. 

Phlox explained. "Vulcans have two hearts located in that area. She is out of her healing trance. I didn't want her blood pressure to become so low her hearts couldn't pump blood. She's aware, but unable to communicate."

Archer nodded. 'T'Pol, I am here.'

He didn't hear anything back, but knew she heard his voice in her mind.

"Captain, your mental link with T'Pol – how strongly do you feel it?"

Archer looked around at his crew, who were beginning to look on with suspicion. He thought about Forrest's order to disavow a relationship. He barely whispered, "Why do you want to know?"

"Perhaps you can help me. We were unable to remove the rod. It's very close to, or possibly in her heart. I need someone to tell me what she feels."

Archer nodded. He coughed. Archer forced himself to take deep breaths.

"Can you stand?" asked Phlox.

Archer squinted his eyes. He tried to at least lift himself up. He looked around and saw green blood covering T'Pol. He felt queasy again, but managed to hold it down by breathing deeply.

He winced as he forced his body to move off the biobed and toward T'Pol. 

Phlox nodded. "Very good."

Archer reached the bed and had the urge to take her hand. Phlox's arm blocked Archer's chest. "It's best we don't move her at all."

Archer nodded.

Phlox ran a scan on the metal rod and looked over to Archer. "Tell me what you feel, Captain." He barely put a hand on the rod.

Archer cried out, "Stop!"

Phlox jerked his hand away. He slowly put his hand on it again. 

Archer winced. Phlox began to slowly remove the rod, when Jon began to moan. The doctor stopped again and turned to the captain. "The pain seems less severe than a moment ago?" he asked.

Archer caught his breath. "Yes, less. A deep pain, as opposed to a sharp pain."

"Okay, we'll put her in stasis to keep from moving her. I'll give her some pain medication." Phlox sighed. He ran a scan and smiled. "I think we got what we needed – the angle of removal to prevent from harming an organ."

'Aisha,' thought Archer with relief.

"Is there anything she taught you about your mental link to distract her?" 

"Yes," said Archer. 

"I'll need you to do it in just a moment. Let me set up the necessary equipment." Phlox spoke hastily. "Your relationship may have saved her life twice – once during her mating and now."

Archer didn't care who in sickbay heard this information. He looked down at his mate and thought about his love for her, and the first time they kissed.

Phlox nodded over to him. He put a curtain around them for privacy. "I need you to begin now." Phlox gave her a couple of hyposprays as Archer began to feel a calmness trickle through his mind.

Archer thought of several things at once – their first kiss, watching her on the bridge, eating breakfast with her, their lesson on sharing thoughts. 

Phlox looked over at Archer. "It's almost out, just a little more."

Archer thought about marriage, pointy-eared children, nights with T'Pol in his cabin, looking at the stars together from Earth or Vulcan, going to sleep with her in his arms and nibbling on her ears. He thought of her finger on his chin. He thought of almost losing T'Pol once before, when they were both too stubborn to admit their attraction. 

As Phlox pulled the rod from T'Pol, she thought, 'I was not the stubborn one.'

Jon smiled. 'Oh, yes you were.'

Phlox nodded to Archer and said, "Be careful," and began to work around the room gathering surgical equipment together.

"T'Pol," Archer said kissing her on the lips. He brushed the hair from her forehead and planted a small kiss on her forehead. People in sickbay were beginning to whisper, seeing the silhouette of the captain and the Vulcan.

Phlox finished. "Captain?" he asked.

Archer looked at him and back down at his first officer. He winked at T'Pol. "I'll see you soon, sweetheart."

He walked out from behind the curtain, getting a pretty good idea his crew saw him. He cleared his throat and walked over to Carter who appeared to be in stable condition.

"How you feeling, Rich?" asked Archer.

Rich smiled that the captain hadn't referred to him as Ensign Carter, and actually remembered his name.

"Better. Sub commander T'Pol saved our lives, sir."

Ensign Waters, who had a large bruise on her forehead, nodded. "So did Carter, sir. He and the sub commander."

Carter blushed. "I just helped T'Pol out."

"When some of the structure of the hall gave-way, you and the sub-commander gave orders to the rest of the crew."

Archer smiled. "Rich, I'm proud of you; you've done a service to your ship and crew."

Rich beamed.

Archer walked around to the other crewmen to talk with each of them. As many people began to descend into Engineering, the ship took damage to that area. T'Pol was able to save much of the crew, but Carter refused to let her make the sacrifice alone. The metal rod that was stuck in T'Pol also went through Carter. 

Archer's admiration for the young man increased several times over. 

Chapter Twelve After being in sickbay for several hours, he went back up to the bridge.

"Sir, Commander Tucker is onboard and says the repairs to the engines are almost complete."

Archer nodded. "Thanks, Malcolm."

"Hoshi, get me Admiral Forrest," he said. 

Archer walked into his ready room. As he thudded into his chair, he put a hand through his hair. He realized he had T'Pol's blood on his uniform and the smell of antiseptic on his clothes. His clothes were still slightly damp, and his hair was out of place. He rubbed his hand over his chin.

Admiral Forrest's face appeared.

"I know this can't be good news, unless this is a social call."

Archer's shook his head. "Enterprise sustained some damage and we have several crewmen injured, although none are dead. I'll provide further details in my report."

Forrest looked at the green goo on Archer's shirt and asked. "Sub commander T'Pol?"

"She'll recover."

Forrest nodded. "You're about to tell me your crew found out about you two, aren't you?"

"Yes, sir," said Archer with a grim face.

"We discussed the ramifications."

"Yes, we did."

"What happened?" 

"I went to go see her in sickbay."

"And?" asked Forrest.

"I was suffering from many of the same symptoms she was, without suffering from the wound," he said. "This is going to be difficult to explain, but we have a ... psychic link to each other. We share thoughts, feelings, smells, sounds, tastes ...." 

"So, when she was hurt, you were hurt as well?" he asked.

"In a sense, yes. I was taken to sickbay and asked to distract her while Dr. Phlox removed a metal rod that threatened to rupture one of her hearts."

"And during this, your other crew who were hurt ... they saw this?" asked Forrest.

"Yes, sir. And, although I knew they could see through the flimsy curtain, I kissed her."

"Jon, what do you think I should do?" asked Forrest.

"I think you shouldn't ask me that. You should do what you think is right," said Archer. "I understood my orders. I didn't carry them out."

"Although I didn't want to involve the Vulcans, I'd rather they hear it from me before they read about it online."

Archer nodded. "Yes, sir."

"I'll give you my decision tomorrow afternoon."

"Aye, sir. Your orders in the meantime?"

"Head back to Earth," said Forrest as his image faded. 

Archer ran his hand through his hair and breathed a deep sigh.

"Engineering to Captain Archer," said Trip.

"Archer here. Go ahead, Trip."

"Sir, our engines are back online."

"Good work. Archer out."

He walked out of his office and toward Mayweather. "We're heading back to Earth. Warp 3."

Mayweather furrowed his brow. "Earth? Any reason, sir?" 

"To see whether I'm drummed out of Starfleet," he murmured to himself. 

[top]

Disclaimers to Star Trek, UPN and Paramount©2003. 

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	4. Some Rules are Meant to be Broken 4

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Stories: Neat (G - PG13) | With a Twist (R)   
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Some Rules are Meant to be Broken, Part 4 [conclusion] 

Some Rules are Meant to be Broken: one | two | three | four 

Chapter One   
Archer had a one hell of a day. He walked to his cabin and jabbed the button throwing open the door with a swish.  
  
Porthos greeted him as the door came open. Archer poured himself a drink and sat down, scratching the dog behind the ears. He thought about the last twenty-four hours. T'Pol was in sickbay; the ship was in need of some repairs; he was forced to choose sides in an Orion conflict, which may have a far-reaching impact on Starfleet and its diplomatic efforts; and after contacting Admiral Forrest, he knew there was a distinct possibility he could be drummed out of Starfleet and soon.  
  
He threw some scotch down his throat and sighed. Archer put the glass down with a heavy thud, and walked out of his cabin toward sickbay.  
  
As soon as the door of the medical center opened, Archer asked "How's T'Pol?"   
  
"She's in stable condition. She can talk a little, but she is very weak." He shook his head. "The fact that she is able to converse is a wonder! Vulcan physiology is fascinating. In fact, she should be fully recovered within just a few days. Their evolutionary process gave them two hearts – one as a back-up. Amazing. Back on Ceta Prime, I ..."  
  
Archer interrupted, "How's Ensign Carter?"  
  
"Feeling pretty good, Captain," said a voice from across the room.   
  
Archer smiled and saw Carter, lying on a biobed in the corner.  
  
Archer looked at Phlox who nodded. "Okay, but don't keep him up too long," said Phlox, pointing to Carter.  
  
Jon headed over to the patient and looked down. "Rich, glad to hear you're feeling better."  
  
"Me, too. Although my injuries weren't as serious as Sub commander T'Pol's."  
  
Archer nodded and looked over at his mate who was sleeping peacefully. As he stared off after her, Rich continued. "Sir, I wanted to let you know that Commander Tucker ordered everyone in Engineering not to mention anything about what happened in here a few hours ago between you and the sub commander." He paused. "He said we'd be spending the rest of our voyage in the brig if we did."  
  
Archer turned back to Carter, raising his brows. "Is that right?" he asked with a smile. He frowned. "I wouldn't let him go through with that." He was curious, but almost afraid to ask. "Has there been any talk?"  
  
"Not much. I think we all know T'Pol saved our lives, no matter how some of the folks in Engineering may feel about her, sir."  
  
"Meaning, because she's Vulcan?"  
  
"People can be prejudice sometimes," he said. "I hate to admit this, but when I first came onboard, I was."  
  
Archer let a smile creep across his face. "So was I."   
  
"You know, I'd heard a few things, but I thought that since you and T'Pol went on regular missions together ...."  
  
Archer narrowed his eyes. "How long do you think we've been seeing each other?"  
  
"A year," mentioned Rich.  
  
Archer guffawed, "We've only been seeing each other about a week."  
  
Rich looked shocked. "Well, I was surprised to hear through the grapevine that Trip and Ensign Sato had only been on one date. Down in Engineering, we'd take bets on how many times per week he'd go and fix a communications problem."  
  
Archer grinned. "It's a small ship."  
  
"Sure is," agreed Rich.   
  
Phlox walked over. "Captain, let this young man get some rest."  
  
Archer nodded. "One more minute, Doctor." He looked back at Rich, "Listen, from the reports, it seems like you really stepped up. You saved a lot of people. As the captain, I'm proud that you took a leadership role despite your rank. I'd like to talk with Commander Tucker about putting you through the officer's program."  
  
Rich beamed. "I don't know what to say. I think anyone would have done what I did."  
  
"I disagree. You acted above your rank." He put his hand on Rich's shoulder. "Now, on a personal level, I'd like to thank you for helping T'Pol."  
  
"It was my honor. She's one of the finest crewmen aboard."  
  
Archer smiled. "Yes, she is." He winked. "Get some sleep, Rich."  
  
He walked over to T'Pol and sat down next to her bed. She stirred, feeling his presence. Her eyes opened.  
  
He brushed her hair from her forehead. "You shouldn't be awake."  
  
"I am finished resting for the time being," she said weakly.  
  
She could feel something was terribly amiss, but sensed Archer was blocking thoughts from her.  
  
"What is wrong?" she asked with more clarity.  
  
"I'm worried about you. That's all," he said.  
  
"There is something else. Why will you not show me?" she asked.  
  
"It doesn't matter," dismissed Archer.  
  
"The ship?" she asked, sensing it was for the most part okay. "The crew?" she questioned. She received the same reassurance. She looked into his eyes. 'Aisha, the crew saw you with me and you have told Admiral Forrest?' she asked as a thought.  
  
He looked into her eyes. In that instant, she could tell her conclusion was correct.  
  
"What is the course of action?" she asked.  
  
He put his index and middle fingers and on hers. "Shhhhh. Why don't you get some rest?" He smiled. "I promised Dr. Phlox I wouldn't disturb you."  
  
"I am more disturbed that you will not tell me."  
  
He kissed her cheek. "There was a time today where I couldn't feel your presence," he cooed. "I missed your voice. I felt ... I felt afraid."  
  
"Aisha," she said.   
  
He gathered a thought that ran across her mind. "Assuming I die before you, which given my life span is likely, you'll feel that way for the rest of your days?"  
  
"Yes," she said with sadness. "I have learned that sharing thoughts with you is more complex and ... exciting ... than sharing them with a Vulcan. Although I could form another bond after your death, it would not be the same. And, I am unsure I would want to do so."  
  
He sighed. "I'm sorry you fell in love with a Human."  
  
"I am not."  
  
He grinned at thinking she didn't argue that love was an emotion. "I guess that means we're stuck with each other."  
  
"It would appear so," she said with amusement.  
  
"Since we're stuck with each other, I think we should take the next step."  
  
"Jon, it is unnecessary to discuss this now. Besides, you wanted a courtship."  
  
"I want to live out the rest of my days with you, as your husband, T'Pol."  
  
"You have many more days left," she argued. "Several months or years is of no consequence to me."  
  
"Humans don't live as long. And, it's of great consequence to me." He whispered to her, touching her hair, "When I couldn't read your thoughts today, I realized how precious time is. I want you to marry me."  
  
She narrowed her eyes. "On one condition."  
  
He raised his eyebrows with confusion. "What?"  
  
"You will let me know what Admiral Forrest indicated in his transmission to you," she said flatly.  
  
He took a deep breath. "It'll upset you."  
  
"I cannot become 'upset.' I have no emotions. I have given you only one condition. Are you unable to meet it?" she asked.  
  
He turned away from her and put his hand against the wall, leaning into it. "We're heading back to Earth. Forrest will let me know what his decision is tomorrow afternoon." He looked up at the timepiece, which read 0039. "Actually, today. This afternoon."  
  
"Is he telling the Vulcans?" she asked.  
  
He turned around and faced her. "Yes. I should have told you, but given your condition ...."  
  
"Jon?" she asked sharply.  
  
He could tell she was angry with him for not telling her. "T'Pol, I didn't think you needed any extra stress."  
  
"You should have told me, as it affects my future as well. Perhaps you should give me some privacy, so I may collect my thoughts," she said with a tinge of anger in her voice.  
  
'Aisha, I know it affects you, but I ....'  
  
"Must I repeat myself?" she asked.  
  
"No," he said stroking her cheek and ignoring her request. "It's okay to be angry with me. But, I think we should talk it out."  
  
"Anger is an emotion," she said through clenched teeth. She looked off into space trying to tamp down her feelings.  
  
He nodded. "Yes it is."  
  
She closed her eyes and mind.  
  
"Don't give me the silent treatment."  
  
She opened her eyes. "Since you will not abide by my wishes .... I am displeased you did not reveal this to me sooner."  
  
"There wasn't really an opportunity."  
  
She nodded. "Correction, I am displeased you were thinking of not telling me at all."  
  
"You're right," he said.  
  
"You are interested in sharing feelings, but you would not share something that affects our future. It is illogical and unlike you."  
  
He exhaled slowly, biting the inside of his cheek.   
  
"You were afraid that you had failed me?" she asked, picking up a trace of a thought.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"The fact that you showed affection for me in front of the crew is why you are so ... vital to my existence," she stated. "And, as you have informed me yourself, you are only Human."  
  
He leaned over and kissed her.  
  
"Besides, one can hardly fail their future wife."  
  
Archer raised his eyebrows. "Is that you're way of saying 'yes'?" he asked.  
  
"I believe I just indicated that." Her eyes were twinkling.   
  
He laughed that she was teasing him. "Indulge me."  
  
"Very well, the answer, Jon, is yes."  
  
He kissed her deeply and parted lips. 'Aisha, you do me great honor.' He broke their embrace. "I'm sure there are Vulcan wedding rituals?"  
  
T'Pol nodded. "Yes. However, they must be done on Vulcan. That would require you to take a series of injections to acclimate to the heat and the gravity. Do you think you can handle it?"  
  
"Of course. In fact, it sounds fascinating," he said sarcastically.   
  
She raised her eyebrow at him. "The gravity is almost twice that of Earth and the temperature is hotter than your Death Valley."  
  
"Well, I'm not going to be jogging around there," he mentioned. He looked at her stoic face. "Am I?"  
  
"Of course not. But, Vulcans are sometimes expected to fight for their mate."  
  
He jerked his head back, unsure if she was joking. "I won't be fighting ... will I?"  
  
She shook her head. "You are my mate and champion. You will not fight for me."  
  
He nodded. "That's a relief."  
  
Phlox came over. "I hear talking, and not sleeping. I thought I asked you not to disturb her, Captain," scolded the doctor.  
  
Archer grinned turning around. "Sorry, we were discussing our wedding plans."  
  
Phlox let he lines of his face hyperextend as he smiled. "Ahhhh! Congratulations!"  
  
Archer narrowed his eyes at Phlox. "I don't suppose you perform marriage ceremonies, too?"   
  
"Of course," said Phlox said jerking his head back. "I am qualified to perform marriages in at least four different cultures, including Universal Church of Light from Earth."  
  
Archer stifled a chuckle. "We just might take you up on that offer." He looked down at T'Pol with giddiness. "Sweetheart, maybe tomorrow ...?"  
  
"Jon, do you think you are rushing things?" she asked.  
  
He smiled. "Maybe. I guess we have a lot of details to work out." He rubbed his nose against hers. She peaked an eyebrow at him, unsure about the rubbing of noses.  
  
Phlox looked at Archer. "Well, this is all very exciting, but she should really get to bed soon, Captain."  
  
Archer nodded. "I would like to just sit here a while, if that's okay."  
  
"Very well, but no talking," said Phlox.  
  
Archer nodded. "No talking."  
  
T'Pol mumbled the same. "No talking."  
  
Archer turned to T'Pol. 'Good thing he didn't say no thinking.'  
  
'Indeed.'  
  
'You probably should get some sleep.' He stroked her hair.  
  
'And so should you.'  
  
He smirked. 'Maybe I'll catch a couple of winks with you,' he said. He pulled a chair up directly next to her bed and sat down.  
  
'Goodnight,' she thought closing her eyes.  
  
He smiled, 'Sleep tight.' His head snuggled up against her arm and he closed his eyes to take a catnap.  
  
Chapter Two   
Archer walked down a long white corridor with bright lights. As he walked down it, Vulcans lined both sides looking down their noses at him. He heard their whispers – "Contaminator." Archer held his head up and continued walking, noticing he was in his Starfleet assigned undergarments. He shrugged it off, walking to the end of the hall. His finger tapped a large doorbell to Admiral Forrest's office.  
  
The door swished open. Soval, dressed in his traditional robes, was seated at Admiral Forrest's desk with his feet propped up. Archer looked around wondering where Forrest was. He stood at attention anyway.  
  
Soval stood up. "Jonathan Archer, the contaminator. You are found guilty of violating our innocent and pure T'Pol of Vulcan. Your sentence is to jog around Vulcan – twice."  
  
Archer tried to speak, but found he was unable to say anything. T'Pol stepped out of the shadows, turning to Soval. "I am not as innocent or pure as you think. I have initiated sexual relations with Jon on many occasions. And given his cleft, body hair and exceptional physique, I would continue to initiate them."  
  
Soval's mouth dropped. "If he completes the jogging ritual, perhaps he can continue to contaminate you. That and he must finish reading all of the Shakespeare plays. And pass a test we conduct on those plays. Of course, it will be written in Vulcan ...."  
  
T'Pol nodded and began taking off her traditional Vulcan robes. "I can tutor him in our jogging ritual and ... assist him with the test. I enjoy Shakespeare immensely; I do not give a damned if enjoying something is an emotion."  
  
Archer raised his eyebrows. The more he focused on T'Pol, the fainter Soval's image became. Jon walked up to his mate. "I don't think Admiral Forrest would mind if we used his desk." He swiped his arm across it, knocking books, computer equipment and photographs to the floor.  
  
"I thought he specifically asked you not to use his desk."  
  
"He did. I don't care." He leaned her over the desk. As he kissed down her neck, he whispered, "Say, you won't use the nasal numbing agent."  
  
"I do not know. You smell woodsy – like pine needles, Jonathon. I never noticed that. If I had, I would never have agreed to a nasal numbing agent."  
  
His mouth enveloped hers as he groaned. She whispered, "I want you ...."  
  
Archer smiled, "Say it again."  
  
"I want you to wake up."  
  
"What?" he asked.  
  
"I said, 'I want you to wake up,'" said T'Pol.  
  
Archer raised his head, feeling a light tapping on his shoulder. He looked up at T'Pol. "I was beginning to sense your dream. It seemed most ... imaginative."  
  
"Sorry about that." He wiped his hand over his mouth and noticed some drool followed him. He looked up at the time – it was already 0600. "I need to be on the bridge soon." He leaned over to kiss her. As his lips embraced hers, he could tell his breath offended her. He sighed. "Part of the package; Humans have bad breath in the morning."  
  
She nodded, turning her head away from him slightly.  
  
He frowned, "Well, yours isn't that hot either."  
  
"On the contrary, the temperature inside my mouth is quite hot."  
  
'That's not the only thing about you that's hot,' he retorted with a wink.  
  
'I find you unusually ... warm ... as well.'  
  
Archer laughed. 'I think any more of this and I'll need to take you right here.'  
  
'At least it is better than Admiral Forrest's desk, in front of Ambassador Soval,' she said.  
  
Archer winced. 'You can't blame me for dreaming, can you?'  
  
'On the contrary, had we not been in sickbay, I would have encouraged you to continue dreaming.'  
  
Archer smiled. "I should probably get going. I'll stop by later today and have lunch with you. How's that sound?"  
  
She nodded. "Good."  
  
He grinned. Rather than assault her nose again with his breath, he kissed her cheek and left.  
  
As the door swished shut, T'Pol turned to Phlox.   
  
"I would like a communications device. There are a few people I wish to contact."  
  
Phlox began to object.   
  
"Doctor, it is urgent. Please?"  
  
Phlox had never known the Vulcan to implore him like this. "I don't know who you need to contact, but ... here," he said handing her the com device.  
  
"Thank you," she said, blocking her thoughts from Archer.   
  
Chapter Three   
Archer walked to his quarters, showered and walked to breakfast, where he saw Trip eating a plate stacked with pancakes.  
  
"Hey, Cap'n," said Trip.  
  
"Good morning," said Archer pouring himself some orange juice. "Have you ever been a best man before?"  
  
Trip choked on some pancakes and reached for his orange juice. "Are you gettin' married?"  
  
Archer nodded. "Yup."  
  
"That's great, Cap'n," said the engineer. He screwed up his face. "So, why do you seem kinda glum?"  
  
Archer shook his head. "Actually, I'm very happy about that."  
  
"Is the wedding why we're heading to Earth?" asked Trip.  
  
Archer looked down at his cereal. "No."  
  
"That's what I thought," accused Trip, putting his fork down. "You contacted Admiral Forrest about what happened in sickbay, didn't you?"  
  
"I owed it to him."  
  
"Let hell you did!" said Trip, throwing his arms in the air. "Starfleet's not out here. They don't need to know what's going on."  
  
"When it possibly affects my government's diplomatic relations with the Vulcans, it does," said Archer.  
  
"Well, if they don't know, how's it going to affect diplomatic relations?" questioned Trip.  
  
Archer smirked. "It would be irresponsible of me. And anyone from Engineering could easily tell the media."  
  
"I've taken care of that. I ordered them not to say anything. Good thing Rich gave me a head's up about the ... ahhhh .... incident. I was pretty sure Ensign Reynolds would talk. She's a gossiper. I always learn great dirt from her."  
  
"I know you ordered them not to say anything. But, you can't tell your folks not to talk about it."  
  
"Oh yeah? I always tell my men and women, what happens in Engineering, stays in Engineering."  
  
Archer leaned on the table. "Did you have Larry Patterson for stellar cartography in the academy?"  
  
"Lecherous Larry ... otherwise known as Larry the Peter? You bet. Who didn't?" remarked Trip.  
  
"Exactly. He hit on almost every girl in my class. It's protocol to bring that kind of behavior to your superiors. I wish I had."  
  
"Now, wait a second. There's a big difference between one relationship, and a guy who tries to boink ... sorry, sir ... every woman in the room," he said.   
  
Archer sighed, "They're still the rules, Trip. We shouldn't encourage our crew not to follow Starfleet regulations. In fact, we want to encourage them to talk about it."  
  
"Talking and gossiping are two different things, Jon."  
  
Archer shook his head. "It's not right."  
  
Commander Tucker retorted, "Well, I'm not telling them any differently. She saved their lives. They owe her."  
  
Archer shook his head. "I could order you to belay that request."  
  
Tucker nodded. "You sure could. But, from the sound of things, you're about to rollover and let them throw your ass out of Starfleet."  
  
Archer winced, "I'm not out of Starfleet yet. Admiral Forrest told me he'd have a decision made by this afternoon."  
  
"Did he say what time?" asked Trip.  
  
"No," answered Archer, finishing his cereal.  
  
Trip stuffed a pancake in his mouth and frowned.  
  
Archer scratched his head. "So, are you going to be my best man or what?" he asked trying to add some levity to their conversation.  
  
Trip smiled. "Only if it doesn't involve any weird Vulcan rituals. Travis was telling me there's one culture where they actually get married naked."  
  
Archer raised his eyebrows. "Well, if the custom is that we do get married naked, I think that will effectively cut down on the list of invitees."  
  
Trip laughed, "I just got a real bad mental picture of seeing a bunch of naked Vulcans."  
  
Archer grinned. "I can think of one Vulcan I wouldn't mind seeing naked." He got up to leave and winked at Trip and walked out.  
  
Trip thought about both Captain Archer and T'Pol naked and shuddered. He stared after the door and pushed his plate away. Suddenly, he wasn't hungry.  
  
Chapter Four   
Archer walked onto the bridge. He looked over at Malcolm. "Status?"  
  
"Sir, the damage to the ship has been repaired."  
  
"Good. I'll be in my ready room."  
  
Reed nodded.   
  
He entered his office and sat at his desk. He put his hands behind his head for a moment, thinking this might be the last day of his command. He began filing the report regarding yesterday's battle with an Orion faction.   
  
He would just continue working and do the best job he could. He couldn't really imagine not being in Starfleet, it's something he wanted to do his whole life. But, all-in-all, he was happy with his decision. When it came right down to it, T'Pol meant more to him than Starfleet. He was just hopeful, it wouldn't affect T'Pol or Earth's chances of continuing to the stars. If Enterprise was grounded, he'd feel worse than awful.  
  
After filing the Orion report, he sent it to Starfleet and walked out onto the bridge. If this indeed was his last day, he wanted to make sure he sat in the command chair as long as possible.  
  
Hoshi looked up. "Sir, I'm receiving a message. It's Admiral Forrest."  
  
Archer was surprised to be receiving the transmission this early, but thought it didn't bode well. He nodded. "Transfer it to my ready room." He got up and walked into his office and looked at the console as Admiral Forrest's grim face appeared.  
  
"Jon, how's Sub commander T'Pol?" asked Forrest.  
  
Archer sighed. "Much better. Thank you for asking, Admiral."  
  
"The ship and crew?" he asked.  
  
"Repairs were finished this morning. And the rest of the crew is doing fine."  
  
Forrest nodded. "Listen, I spoke with Ambassador Soval and a few other Vulcans regarding the situation. Starfleet has come to a decision."  
  
Archer sat up straight. "Yes, sir."  
  
Forrest sighed. "We're revoking your command. I'm contacting Commander Tucker after this and letting him know he's in command."  
  
Archer nodded, continuing to sit straight. "Yes, sir."  
  
Forrest continued. "Ambassador Soval will contact Sub commander T'Pol. In fact, he may already have done it. Though, I doubt she will be recalled to Vulcan."  
  
Archer nodded. "Permission to speak freely, sir?"  
  
Forrest sat back in his chair. "Go ahead."  
  
"I assume I'm going to receive a trial. It's Starfleet protocol."  
  
Forrest frowned. "I doubt the decision I just informed you about will change."  
  
Archer leaned into the console. "I want a hearing."  
  
"You'll get a hearing, but it's best if you go quietly. We want to keep this out of the media to ensure our diplomatic efforts with Vulcan continue. I also want to see Enterprise continue. I've notified Captain Duval that he may be re-assigned."  
  
Archer cringed at hearing Duvall was the next selection as captain. "I also want to make sure Enterprise continues her mission; you of all people should know that," said Archer his eyes narrowing. "I won't go to the media, but I want my trial to be fair."  
  
Forrest agreed. "Jon, you've already admitted your fraternized with your sub commander. They may ask me to be a witness."  
  
"I know."  
  
"I'll file the motion, as soon as I see who's on the defense docket," said Forrest. "I want to make sure you get a fair trial. I owe you that much."  
  
Archer nodded. "Thank you, sir."  
  
Forrest's image faded. Archer frowned and shook his head. He thought, 'All these years.'  
  
He touched a picture frame that held an image of him and his father. He smiled, thinking his father looked so young in the photograph. He blew a spec of dust from it and mused about the image. His father was teaching him how to fish. Although they'd only been fishing twice, and Archer didn't like fishing, he kept that picture because both men looked so happy. He gingerly set the picture down and headed out the door.  
  
Commander Tucker walked onto the bridge. His face was fallen and tense.  
  
Archer acknowledged his friend with a nod. He turned to the bridge crew, "Can I have your attention?"  
  
Travis, Hoshi and Reed turned toward Archer. Jon swallowed and began hoarsely, "Commander Tucker is in command of the Enterprise. I have a court-martial hearing when we reach Earth. As it stands, it's likely I won't be coming back to Enterprise ... or Starfleet."  
  
Reed stood up, shocked. "What's the charge?"  
  
"I've violated fraternization regulations and a direct order."  
  
Reed's mouth dropped. "Fraternization? With whom?"  
  
"Sub commander T'Pol," said Archer slowly.   
  
Hoshi shook her head. "Sir, she's not even part of Starfleet."  
  
"Sub commander T'Pol?" asked Reed mumbling to himself.  
  
Archer looked Hoshi in the eye. "She reports to me, Ensign. I understood the risk."  
  
Before Travis could say anything, Archer put his hand up. "I just ... I wanted to let you know, you are the finest people I've served with," he said looking at Tucker. He turned to Reed, "You've shown dedication and duty." He looked at Ensign Sato, "Courage and strength." He looked down at Travis, "And wisdom." He turned to each member of the bridge's crew, "You made me proud to be your captain. But, your mission is unchanged; it's clear and important to Earth, no matter who your captain is. You are seeking out new life and new civilizations, going boldly where no one has gone before. For the sake of our planet and our future generations, you must continue."  
  
Before anyone could say anything else, Archer punched a button on his chair. "All hands, this is Captain Archer. Today at 1007 Commander Tucker has control of the ship. When we reach Earth, where you will receive further instructions. I wish I had more to say. It's been an honor serving with you." His hand left the chair and he cleared his throat.  
  
He looked at Trip. "Commander Tucker, what are your orders?"  
  
Trip shook his head. "I'm supposed to send a security team with you, and confine you to quarters until we reach Earth."  
  
"Then, I suggest you do it," encouraged Archer.  
  
"I'll escort the captain to sickbay and his quarters, Commander," volunteered Reed, walking over. Archer smiled.  
  
Trip nodded and turned back to Archer. "This doesn't sit right with me, sir. I don't think you should be confined."  
  
Archer patted his friend on the back. "It's okay." He looked at Reed. "I'm ready, Lt."  
  
Reed stiffened his spine and walked toward the turbolift, holding it open for Archer. Archer walked on, holding his head high and facing away from the bridge as the door swished shut.  
  
Chapter Five   
Archer and Reed reached sickbay. Phlox looked over with confusion. "What's going on, Captain?" he asked.  
  
"I'm no longer the captain," said Archer with a grave face. He walked over to T'Pol, as Reed stayed back to fill in Dr. Phlox.  
  
As he did, he noticed she was talking with Ambassador Soval.  
  
She looked up at Jon and continued her conversation, switching to English, rather than continuing to speak in Vulcan. "Why will you not accept the facts as they are?"  
  
He said something in Vulcan.  
  
"It is not Captain Archer's fault he helped me through my Pon Farr. Nor, is it his fault that I wanted to continue the relationship with him."  
  
"Why are you speaking in English? Is he there?" asked Soval, seeming to become agitated.  
  
"Yes," she said. "He is my bondmate, my lifemate. He would hear this conversation anyway."  
  
"It is impossible to have a bond with an Earthling."  
  
"And yet it is there, Soval. I hear his thoughts, as he hears mine."  
  
He crossed his arms, "T'Pol, it is illogical to want a relationship with a Human. Your Vulcan teachings have prepared you to continue in the ways of our tradition."  
  
"Our tradition, taught by Surak, teaches of infinite diversity in infinite combinations."  
  
"You have obligations to your people," said Soval.  
  
"My obligation to my people can be served as Archer's mate. I can still represent the interests of the Vulcans. Our unity may make it easier for the Humans to understand our people. I would think as an ambassador, you would understand this."  
  
"Humans have many relations, what if he wants to discontinue yours?"  
  
"I also believed Humans to have many relations, but have learned they can also feel the need to be lifemates as Vulcans do. In fact, Jon has asked to be my spouse."  
  
"Does he understand what he is agreeing to, and what you are giving up?" he asked.  
  
"Yes, he understands what he is agreeing to," said T'Pol. "As for what I give up; I have no other choice. He is vital to me."  
  
"You give up offspring," mentioned Soval. "You know having them is highly unlikely."  
  
"Unlikely, but not impossible. It matters not to him," she said.  
  
"And to you? Lifemates exist to have children," said Soval.   
  
"I would prefer if we could have offspring," she said. "But, I cannot deny the bond that exists between us. And I would not turn it or him away."  
  
"It is ultimately your decision, but the Vulcan government cannot sanction your union. Another thing to consider: where would you live? The Earthlings insist on removing him," said Soval.  
  
"They may change their minds if a respected Vulcan official were to speak with them," indicated T'Pol.  
  
"This matter is up to Starfleet. It is none of our concern."  
  
Archer spoke up, "Ambassador Soval is right, T'Pol. I understood I was violating regulations to be with you."  
  
T'Pol ignored him, speaking to Soval. "You are the ambassador. Surely you can influence them."  
  
Archer sat down on the edge of her bed and looked into the communication console. "Ambassador, although she is my lifemate, she does not speak on my behalf on this issue. I don't expect you to defend me or my decision."   
  
T'Pol touched his cheek. "Jonathan, he can help you."  
  
Archer turned to her, kissing the palm of her hand. "It'll be okay." He took her hand in his and looked back at the screen. "I don't think you should try to influence Starfleet. I don't like for other people to fight my battles for me." He furrowed his brow. "Besides, Vulcans risks the future of their negations with Earth. It's important to Vulcan, and important to Earth to continue our alliance."  
  
Soval raised his eyebrow. "It appears we agree, Archer. I will see you at your trial."  
  
T'Pol opened her mouth to speak when the image faded. She hung her head to her chest. "I have not been recalled."  
  
"Will you quit?"   
  
"Of course I will resign," she said without hesitation.  
  
"You don't have to. I'd wait for you," he said.  
  
She raised her eyebrow. "That is not an option."  
  
"Why?" he asked.  
  
"I would rather be with you, Jon."  
  
He smirked and kissed her cheek. "I've been confined to quarters. I'll see you when we reach Earth in two days."  
  
She bit her lip. 'I will be using my bond to communicate with you then.'  
  
Phlox spoke up, "I could ... release her now if I make several house calls per day."  
  
Archer smiled. "I'd be happy to help in anyway I can. I have some free time on my hands."  
  
"So I understand." He looked at the two of them. "Just, make sure to take it easy for the next two days. If you know what I mean." Phlox coughed.  
  
Archer put his hand over his face, hiding a laugh. "I know what you mean."  
  
Phlox arranged for a bio-stretcher to take her to Archer's quarters.   
  
Six  
  
As Archer pushed her moving bio-bed into his room, Reed nodded. "Sir, I'm supposed to post a guard outside."  
  
Archer nodded. "You shouldn't be ashamed to do your job, Lt."  
  
"I shouldn't be, sir. But, I am now," said Reed walking out the door.   
  
Archer sighed and looked back at T'Pol. He moved her onto his bed as she winced slightly. "Sorry."  
  
"No need to apologize."  
  
"Do you need anything?"   
  
She shook her head. He smiled. "Then, get some rest." He leaned over and kissed her.   
  
He changed out of his uniform and folded it up neatly. He turner to his dresser and placed it gingerly in the drawer and closed it. He sighed. He looked through his closet and dug out a pair of khaki pants and a black shirt.  
  
He picked up the Shakespeare anthology from his bookshelf and read. "Alls Well that Ends Well," he said. "Let's hope so," he said. He settled down next to T'Pol and began to read.  
  
After a few hours the door chimed. Archer looked over at T'Pol and got up to answer the door. Having never been confined to quarters, he wasn't sure the appropriate course of action.  
  
"Lunch is here, Captain," said the security guard through the door.  
  
Just as Archer was about to open the door, the guard swished it open. "Here ya go, sir."  
  
"Thanks," he said. Archer looked over – all vegetarian. He shrugged.  
  
The guard nodded and shut the door. Archer looked at his lunch with apathy. He sat down and poked at it. He sighed – this wasn't exactly what he thought would happen. As he ate, he tried to keep up his spirits thinking of all the things he could do if he had more time on his hands. Part of him always wanted to be an astronomer, someone who studied the stars. He'd miss being amongst them, but could probably handle the change.  
  
He scratched his head. "What would T'Pol do?" He looked over at his sleeping mate. "Vulcans didn't necessarily interact with Humans," he said to himself. Sure, they participated in work life at some levels, but they weren't exactly invited to office parties, or even over for dinner.   
  
T'Pol sat up. "I could always teach, Jon," she said gathering his thoughts. "And, I am not terribly interested in ...office parties."  
  
He smiled. "Aisha, sorry to disturb you."  
  
"I am hungry," she said.  
  
"Of course," he said walking a tray of vegetables over to her.  
  
She took her fork and cut a carrot in half. "Are you enjoying your book?" she asked.  
  
"Yes," he said. He held out a hypospray. "Dr. Phlox wanted me to give this to you about now. Think you can stand it?"   
  
She nodded, putting her fork down. He touched it to her neck and gave her the injection. "There."  
  
"May I have some water," she said.  
  
"You bet," he said walking over to the tray again. He handed her a large glass with a large ice cube.  
  
She began to scoop the ice out with her fork when he laughed. "You can use your fingers."  
  
"But, I will drink from this glass."  
  
"Give it to me," he said. She handed him the glass and he chased the cube with a spoon, putting it into his mouth. He put it in the side of his cheek. "Thar," he said as he gave her back the glass.  
  
She raised her eyebrow. "The ice is not disturbing to you?"  
  
"Nah, fahls preddy guhd," he said trying to speak.   
  
She frowned. "I do not understand you."  
  
He let it fall into his glass of ice tea, realizing she'd probably find that crude. "Uhm, I said that it felt pretty good."  
  
She furrowed her brows together. "I see," she said.  
  
"How'd you sleep?" he asked.  
  
"Well," she said  
  
He ate his lunch. "Have any good dreams?" he asked.  
  
"No. Vulcans rarely dream, Jon," she said.  
  
"That seems odd," he said, eating his salad.  
  
"We meditate so that we do not dream. The chaos of dream images and thoughts are disturbing."  
  
"You seemed okay with my dream yesterday. It was very random," he said, smiling.  
  
"Yes, I ... enjoyed that dream. But, I meditated afterward to help purge those images and thoughts," she said.  
  
"Have you ever dreamed?" he asked.  
  
She raised her eyebrow. "Yes."  
  
He looked up with surprise. "Recently?"  
  
"Not recently," she responded, trying not to answer the question.  
  
Archer caught a faint glimpse of a T'Pol heading into a jazz club. As he followed that thought, he saw her in bed with another Vulcan. Suddenly the image blackened, as T'Pol blocked her thoughts.   
  
He raised his eyebrows. "I see."   
  
"No, you do not. It was an image of Tolaris," she said with disgust.  
  
'I'm sorry, aisha,' he said. Sharing her thoughts made him understand the full impact of what Tolaris had done. He felt if he ever saw Tolaris again, he'd kick his ass. The thought seemed to give T'Pol some amusement. He walked over, neglecting his food and sat down with her on the bed. He kissed her cheek.   
  
"Do you ...." Archer started, but didn't know how to continue. He wanted to ask if she thought about him and how he'd given her Pa'Nar. He bit his cheek.  
  
"I would also like to ... do him harm. Although I know it is illogical." She looked at him. "Aisha, it is ... comforting that you are protective of me."  
  
"Well, I'm pretty sure with your Vulcan strength, you'd probably be protecting me."  
  
"Most likely," she responded.  
  
He grinned. Just as he leaned in to kiss her, he felt the ship go out of warp. He sighed wondering what was going on. T'Pol looked at him. "Peculiar," she stated.  
  
He nodded. "Well, best to sit back and relax."  
  
"Commander Tucker to Archer," said Trip.  
  
Archer exchanged glances with his mate and walked across the room. "Archer here."  
  
"We have someone who wants to speak with you and insists if we don't he'll fire upon us," said Trip.  
  
Archer furrowed his brow. "Put him through." He walked over to his console.  
  
"This is Jonathan Archer," said Archer as a familiar face materialized on the screen. "Shran?"  
  
"Yes, pink skin. It's me. I received a transmission that you have been removed as captain of your vessel?" he asked.  
  
Archer scratched his head. "Yes. How did you know?"   
  
"This source wished not to reveal herself," said Shran.  
  
Archer looked over at T'Pol who was looking the other way. "What did T'Pol tell you?"  
  
Shran smiled. "That you were interested in a ... Vulcan," he said with disgust. "I suppose as far as that race goes, she's tolerable."  
  
T'Pol raised her eyebrow.  
  
"Because of the ceasefire agreement you helped the Andorians with, I felt a debt of gratitude. I hate being in your debt, but it seems I constantly have to repay you."  
  
"You don't need to repay me anything," said Archer.  
  
"You can be so proud and stubborn, you pink skins." Shran's antennae twitched. "I'm escorting the Enterprise to Earth, where I've already asked to speak with your admiral and ambassador Soval."  
  
Archer sat back in his chair.  
  
"I'm speaking on your behalf, Archer," said Shran. "My people are willing to offer Earth friendship in exchange for you to continue to be captain. We need any ally; Earth might be exactly what we need."  
  
Archer rubbed his chin. "I don't know what to say," he said.  
  
"Thank you might be a good place to start."  
  
Archer nodded. "Thank you. You don't need to do this."  
  
"On the contrary, pink skin, Andorians need more Humans like you. Well, we still have roughly a two-day journey. No need to get all mushy now."  
  
Archer laughed.  
  
"This time you owe me, Archer," said Shran as his image disappeared.  
  
"Yes, I do." Archer looked over at T'Pol. "Why did you contact him?" he asked.  
  
"It seemed the logical thing to do," she said.  
  
Just as Archer opened his mouth, he heard another page. "Commander Tucker to Archer."  
  
"Archer here."  
  
"Sir, we have another request to speak with you," said Tucker. "It's kinda Grand Central Station up here."  
  
Archer smiled. "Put it through," he said.  
  
"Captain Archer, I see you there with your lovely Vulcan," said Gerok with a smile.  
  
"Gerok?"  
  
"You sound so surprised. I've asked to meet with Admiral Forrest and Ambassador Soval on your behalf," he said. "And you can thank your exquisite Vulcan for that."  
  
Archer smiled. "Thank you," he said and then turned to T'Pol. She bowed her head.  
  
"It appears we have a mutual interest. I wish my faction to be backed by larger forces, and you need my help," Gerok said.  
  
"I wouldn't be so sure that Earth would back your faction."  
  
"Ah, Captain, I'm not just an excellent fighter and commander, I am a trained diplomat. They will support me," bragged Gerok.  
  
"I guess there is a possibility," he said.  
  
"We'll escort the Enterprise to Earth. See you there," the Orion said as the screen faded.  
  
Archer turned from his console. "Aisha?" he asked.  
  
"I also had some time on my hands," she replied.  
  
He walked over. "You're a sneaky Vulcan," he said.  
  
"Yes, I am."  
  
"Is there any wonder why you are vital to my existence," teased Archer with a grin. He extended his fingers in a Vulcan embrace, which she readily met.  
  
He curled up next to her. 'Aisha, you might as well get some sleep,' he thought. 'We have a couple of days before we reach Earth.'  
  
Chapter Seven: Two Days Later   
As the Enterprise docked, the door chimed. Archer opened it.   
  
"Sir, we are ready to escort you off the ship," said Reed.  
  
Archer nodded and grabbed two bags, including one with T'Pol's clothes and necessities; she'd decided to come with him, no matter what happened. She was feeling better, well enough to stand and walk around. Archer wanted to lessen the impact on Porthos, thinking if he was tossed out of Starfleet, Trip could bring his dog. Hoshi had agreed to watch him for the next couple of days. Archer smiled thinking maybe Trip and Hoshi would watch him together.  
  
Archer walked out the door and down the hall. As he entered the docking bay, he turned to T'Pol. "Ready?" he asked.  
  
She nodded and they entered the shuttle, Reed spoke up. "Sir, it's been an honor serving with you."  
  
Archer extended his hand for a handshake, which Reed eagerly took. Archer turned and walked further into the shuttle and out of site. T'Pol nodded toward Reed. "Sub commander, it has been a distinct pleasure serving with you," said Reed.  
  
She responded, "And I with you, Lt."  
  
She turned walking further in. Archer and T'Pol took a seat as Commander Tucker turned around. "All right, seatbelts everyone."  
  
"Thanks for giving me a lift," said Archer with a grin. "Isn't it a breach in protocol to escort me alone, Commander?"  
  
"Ah, hell. I'm so pissed off right now. I don't care if they give me the boot," said Tucker flying out the Enterprise.  
  
Archer looked out the window to see the big blue marble, majestically below him. T'Pol grabbed his hand. 'It is reassuring to see your home planet again, aisha?'  
  
'Yes. Despite the circumstances,' he thought.  
  
'I would ... enjoy seeing the planet through your eyes,' she said. There was a deeper meaning that Archer didn't quite understand, but before he could question her, Trip interrupted.  
  
"You guys are mighty quiet back there. Do I have to perform a hand check?" asked Trip speeding the shuttle toward the planet.  
  
Archer laughed, as T'Pol raised her eyebrow. "Commander, what is a hand check?"  
  
Trip guffawed, "I'll let Jon explain that to you later."  
  
Archer shook his head. 'Sweetheart, he was insinuating that I was groping you.' He spoke up, "Commander Tucker was making a joke."  
  
T'Pol nodded. "Ah." She turned to Archer and put her hand on his knee, sliding it up his thigh. He turned to her with surprise. 'Perhaps he should perform a hand check.'  
  
Archer's eyes twinkled. 'I can't wait to get you home.'  
  
'It has been almost a week.' She was referring to the last time they had been together intimately.  
  
'You don't need to tell me,' he thought to her.  
  
"So, you hear from your lawyer?" asked Trip, wondering why it was so quiet again.  
  
Archer shook his head. "No."  
  
"That's kinda weird," said Trip.  
  
"I have a call into a friend of mine from Stanford. He's a defense attorney; he might be able to assist me, even if he's a civilian."  
  
"When is your trial?" asked Trip.  
  
"That's another thing that's kind of odd, I haven't heard. Forrest set up a meeting tomorrow morning in his office. Until then, I'm ordered to stay in my apartment."  
  
Trip turned around. "Now, what about that wedding? I'm still invited right?" asked Tucker.   
  
"Depends on what your next orders are," said Archer. "But, if you can be there, I'd love to have you."  
  
"It's just too bad you can't have it aboard Enterprise, Jon."  
  
Archer sighed as the shuttle reached the Starfleet launch pad in San Francisco. After the engines had died down, Commander Tucker got up. "I'm ordered to transfer you over now."   
  
He walked them out to the pad and in front of two young men who had phase pistols at their sides. One of the young men looked almost like a marine; he was big with very short-cropped hair and a large chin. "Commander Tucker?" he belted out.  
  
"Yes. I guess you're here to escort him?" Trip asked.  
  
The young man nodded. "Yes, sir."  
  
Trip held up his hand, offering it to Archer. "Jon, you let me know if you need anything. I'm gonna be in Florida at my mom's. You know the number, right?"  
  
Archer nodded. "Sure do." He shook the young man's hand and then gathered him into a hug. Trip felt himself get a little misty eyed and broke the friendly embrace.  
  
T'Pol turned to Trip, giving him the sign of peace. "Thank you, Commander Tucker. Live long and prosper."  
  
"I'll see ya soon," said Trip.  
  
Trip turned around and walked back into the shuttle, not wishing to see Archer being taken away. He closed the shuttle door.  
  
The young man turned to Archer. "Captain, my name is Rivers. Me and Ensign Lotti have been asked to escort you back to your apartment." He pointed at a swarthy looking, stockier man who had dark hair and dark eyes.  
  
Archer nodded. "I'd like to bring Sub commander T'Pol along. She's staying with me."  
  
Rivers looked over at the Vulcan with contempt. "I was told she was coming. I guess we can fit one more."   
  
Archer turned to T'Pol, 'Are you sure you want to do this?'  
  
'Yes,' she thought back to him.  
  
Rivers pointed to the shuttle, "Over there, sir."  
  
The doors opened. Archer stepped in and held his hand out to T'Pol to help her inside. As everyone was aboard and secure; Lotti took off, flying the shuttle to the area where Jon's apartment was.  
  
"So, how does this work? You going to stand outside my door all night?" asked Jon.  
  
"Yes, sir. We're not MPs, sir, but we've been asked to keep an eye on you," said Rivers.  
  
"I haven't heard anything about my trial," Archer said with irritation.  
  
"Can't help you, sir. I just know my orders," said Rivers.  
  
"Who ordered you?" asked Archer.  
  
"Admiral Mingus," said Rivers. "There are a few other procedures I'll need to go over with you."  
  
Archer nodded.  
  
"We've been asked to monitor any communications to or from your place of residence. No one, not even the Vulcan," he pointed to T'Pol, "is allowed to leave. Once we reach your home, you're there until we give you further instructions. At 1000, I've been asked to take you to Admiral Forrest's office, where further instructions will be given. Is that clear, sir?"  
  
"Yes. What if I'm hungry?" asked Archer, feeling like a child.  
  
"You tell us and we get it," said Rivers.  
  
He nodded. "I wonder why I wasn't escorted by MPs," said Archer more to himself than anyone.  
  
"Don't know, sir. I only know my orders," said Rivers. After a moment of silence, he spoke up again. "One question, sir."  
  
Archer was pretty sure he knew what it was. "Go ahead."  
  
"Why the Vulcan?" he asked, intimating he'd heard something about the charges.  
  
Archer took a deep breath and looked at T'Pol. He could tell Rivers' comment hurt her. 'They don't understand,' he thought to her. 'They don't know any differently.'  
  
He looked at Rivers. "Because I love her," said Archer. He turned back to T'Pol and smiled.   
  
She held up two fingers, which he took readily. Rivers squinted his eyes. "Doesn't seem right," he murmured to himself.  
  
The shuttle landed at a roof-top landing pad. Rivers opened the door and exited. Shuttles were zinging by within a close proximity.  
  
The wind rushed through Archer's hair as he turned around to T'Pol. "Welcome home, honey."  
  
She raised her eyebrow and looked out over the city. It was almost dusk, and the city's lights were just beginning to shimmer. She looked out over the landscape – there were long, straight buildings as far as the eye could see. She thought, 'Home.'   
  
She gathered a few thoughts from Archer. She was intrigued to see the city through his eyes. There were several buildings that were meaningful to him. He looked out, watching the lights in the buildings begin to come on and smiled to T'Pol. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"  
  
Lotti interrupted, "Let's get in the elevators."  
  
They made their way across the roof and stepped in the elevators. Archer pushed the 57th floor, as the turbolift made it's way down.  
  
As the elevator reached the 57th floor, all four stepped out. Rivers turned to Archer. "Go ahead. We'll stay out here. And please remember the protocol we discussed."  
  
Archer nodded.  
  
Jon walked toward apartment C and put his hand up on the identification pad. The door swished open easily. He turned around. "Come on in, T'Pol."  
  
She entered his room and looked around with wonder. She had seen this place in his thoughts, but had not thought she would ever see it with her own eyes. It was not as sparse as a Vulcan room; he had photographs on the wall, paintings and pictures of a few people scattered across a table. The colors in the carpet, walls, ceiling and couch were all neutral, but warm. His apartment looked contemporary, but stylish. He had a large cream-colored sectional couch, glass countertops that hid a console and television and a cherry-colored wooden table next to the kitchen.   
  
"Want the tour?" he asked putting their bags down near the couch.  
  
She nodded.  
  
"Kinda small," he said. He waved over toward the kitchen. "There's the kitchen, this is the living room and over toward the back," he grabbed her hand and started walking toward the back room, "is the bedroom." She looked over the sparse room. The room looked somewhat Asian. He had a camel-colored bedspread and a chair in the room with a shirt draped over it.  
  
There was a small bathroom adjoining his bedroom. He pointed toward it. "I think you know what that is," he said.   
  
She peeked her head in. His bathroom was fairly small and looked more manly than the rest of the apartment. He had large dark green towels, folded neatly over a towel rack mounted to the wall, shaving gear on a glass surface above the sink and a shower stall that looked like the one aboard Enterprise.   
  
"Well, the future Mrs. Archer, what do you think?" he asked walking back into the kitchen. He reached one of his honey-colored cabinets and pulled out a large wine glass. He saw a wine bottle on the countertop and uncorked it.   
  
She followed behind him. "You are assuming I take your name," she said.  
  
He had a twinkle in his eyes and turned to look at her. "I kinda was." He paused. "Thirsty? Want anything to drink?" He poured a glass of wine.  
  
"I will also have a glass of wine, Jon," she said.   
  
Archer looked surprised and got out another wine glass.  
  
"Vulcans do have ... last names. Although they are not used in the same way that Earthling's are."  
  
"What are Vulcan last names for?" he asked pointing to the couch.  
  
She sat down. "To identify us having been born from a certain location, as well as from a certain family." She drank the wine. "It is also customary that the male take the female's name, since women can give birth."   
  
He coughed, choking on the wine he'd just managed to drink.  
  
"Is that so?" he asked crossing to the living room.  
  
She nodded. "Yes," she said.  
  
He hunched over his console, selecting music. "So, you'd like me to be Jon T'Pol?" he asked distractedly.  
  
"T'Pol is not my last name," she said.   
  
An ambient song began to play in the background. He sat next to her. "What is your last name?" he asked.   
  
She whispered it to him.   
  
"I don't think I can pronounce that ... much less spell it."  
  
"We can work on your pronunciation, aisha, and your spelling."  
  
"I think we should," he said. He took a sip of wine. "You know, this," he pointed around to his apartment, "is yours, too."  
  
"This belongs to me?" she asked, somewhat understanding his meaning.  
  
"When people from Earth marry, they share possessions," he said. He waved around the room, "It's not much, but it's yours."  
  
She looked at the artwork on the wall. It appeared he liked black and white pictures of nature.   
  
"I did not know you collected photography. That terrain looks like Vulcan," she said pointing to the photograph of the Grand Canyon.  
  
"I took that," he said with a grin.   
  
She turned to him, raising her brow. She stood up to look at it in more detail. She looked over and saw a model ship he had on his sofa table. The model looked somewhat crude as if made my a child.  
  
"Careful with that," said Archer as he began walking over.  
  
'Your father helped you build this,' she thought looking into his green eyes.  
  
"Yes he did." Archer sipped his red wine. He turned to a console behind him and punched a few buttons, playing the music louder and lowering the lights ever so slightly.  
  
Archer could tell T'Pol felt unsettled and slightly out of place. "Come here," he said, putting down his wine glass and reaching out his hand to her. She took his hand and he walked to her to hold her.   
  
He stroked her hair. "I think we should add things that make this place yours. Like, we could add some candles and a meditation area," he suggested.  
  
"May I put up a Vulcan tapestry my mother gave me?" she asked.   
  
Jon thought back – she has pointed it out to him before. It was the ugliest one in her room. "Of course." He paused. "What about your statue of Surak?"  
  
"Yes, I would also like to add that."  
  
"Anything else to remind you of home?" he asked, breaking from her.  
  
"I will consider it," she said.  
  
He nodded and looked outside, distractedly. "God, it's beautiful out there," he said looking out the large glass windows near his kitchen and dining room.  
  
"San Francisco is quite pleasing through your eyes," she said. She sipped the wine.  
  
Again he could sense a deeper meaning, but she buried the thought. Archer took her hand. He nodded toward the window. "It's funny, the city looks even bigger than when I was last here."  
  
"Odd, I cannot tell from this vantage point," she responded.  
  
Archer grinned. "I guess upon returning home, it's customary to talk about how it's changed."  
  
"Fascinating." T'Pol left the window and began looking in greater detail around his apartment as Archer mused to himself for a few moments.   
  
T'Pol turned her attention from the window and inspected his apartment in greater detail. Near the model spaceship, she found a series of photographs. It was interesting how she had already known their names without asking. He had one of his parents. She looked at a picture in a large black frame; it was Rebecca. She was in his mid-thirties and was quite pretty, with bright blue eyes.  
  
Archer looked over at T'Pol studying a photo and realized who she was looking at. He walked over to her and put his arm around her. "I haven't been here in two years ... I ...."  
  
"You do not need to explain. I understand," she said.  
  
He took the picture away from her and put it face down on the table. "I'm happy you're here with me. I know this must be difficult."  
  
"I will adjust," she said.   
  
He could tell she was cold. "Why didn't you tell me you were cold? I'll turn on the heat," he suggested. He walked over to the console and raised the temperature. She rubbed her arms.   
  
"Wait right here," he said and went into his bedroom. He brought out a sweater. "It'll probably smell a little dusty, but at least it will keep you warm," he said holding it out for her.  
  
She nodded, putting it on. He was right, it did smell dusty. She could also smell a faint whiff of perfume on it. She frowned and removed it.  
  
He gathered her thoughts. Jon sighed, "Sorry, T'Pol, I didn't know."  
  
She sat down sipping wine. She seemed unsettled. She felt agitated.  
  
Archer touched her face. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?" he asked.  
  
T'Pol's mouth met his with brute force, as her hand curled behind his head. Her tongue parted his lips. His mouth moved against hers in unison. His hands dodged the material of her robes. After a few moments, he broke her embrace.   
  
"How do you feel?" he asked, stroking her hair. He was thinking of the doctor's warning to take it easy for a couple of days. He was also wondering why in her irritation she had decided to kiss him.  
  
"I am well," she said. Her hands moved over the buttons of his shirt.   
  
"Wait a second," he said. Her agitation was still there. "Let's talk about this," he said.  
  
"About what?" she asked.  
  
"Your feelings," he said.   
  
Her mouth moved to his throat. "I am a Vulcan, I have no ... feelings."  
  
She sighed, "I know you're upset." He took her chin in his hand. 'I am your lifemate. I know your thoughts and feelings.'  
  
She bit her lip. 'I do not know what I feel.'  
  
He nodded. 'I think I do – you feel out of place, perhaps jealous and a little home sick?" he said gathering her thoughts.  
  
She furrowed her brow.  
  
'You shouldn't feel jealous. You can look through my mind and see there is only you, T'Pol.'  
  
She turned his thoughts over. Of course she knew he was not still interested in Rebecca, but having him reaffirm it was comforting.  
  
'This apartment is yours. This is your house. I am yours. How can you feel more at-home here?'  
  
"I do not know," she said.  
  
'We could move elsewhere.'  
  
She hadn't expected him to offer. "Where?"  
  
"You've made many compromises for me. Where would you wish to go?" he asked. "Sausalito?" he asked. He tried to tamp down his desire not to be stuck around a bunch of Vulcans.  
  
"You are good to offer," she said. She raised her eyebrow at his revulsion to move to Sausalito. 'No, I will not suggest we move to the Vulcan compound," she continued as a thought.  
  
He smiled. "I need to work on blocking my thoughts more." He sipped at his wine.  
  
There was a slight lull in the conversation and something re-emerged in his brain. "You have thought something twice now ... as if you could see the world through my eyes. Do you mean the bond?"  
  
'Aisha, I have been wanting to tell you about a ritual performed with lifemates,' she thought.  
  
He gathered her thoughts and put down his wine glass. 'Yes?' he thought.  
  
'Although our bond is very strong, it may become stronger still,' she thought. 'I have wondered how you will accept that.'  
  
Something in the tone of her voice concerned him. 'Show me,' he said.  
  
She took a deep breath and touched her fingers to his temples. Jon felt like he was looking at himself, their thoughts were so in unison. He felt a little disoriented, but tried to stay with her.   
  
Rather than a noninvasive thought he experienced the world for a moment as she had, complete with sights and sounds. She put her mouth against his and he felt both his feelings of excitement, and hers at the same time. His lips were soft and cool, almost cold. He realized she was thinking in Vulcan, but that he understood her. He was thinking in Vulcan. As their lips parted, he saw into his own eyes. The detail of the colors were quite vivid – the specks of brown, the small red dot in his left eye and the shades of light and dark emerald green that mixed near the black center. Her eyesight was incredible. He smelled the air and it was musty like cheese; he was musty.   
  
He felt dizzy.  
  
He heard a sound next door, as if people were fighting. He managed to hear that over the music. The muffled conversation was distracting. In fact, there was a slight ringing in his ears at some of the equipment around his room. Archer winced trying to stay focused. His head was pounding.  
  
T'Pol broke contact. "Are you alright?" she asked.  
  
He grabbed his head. "Yes," he lied. He rubbed his temples.  
  
'When I was trying to teach you how to think two things at once, this was part of the reason I wanted you to learn. As we become lifemates, you will possibly feel this way more often.'  
  
He nodded. His head was throbbing. He was shaking a little. "How does this happen?" he asked hoarsely.  
  
"If it happens at all, it most likely will be as gradual as when we noticed we began sharing thoughts." She realized he was in pain. 'Aisha, I did not wish to harm you.'  
  
"I know you didn't. Don't worry, I'm okay ... just a little headache."  
  
She stroked his hair soothingly. "Do you have anything here for pain?"  
  
"Yeah, in my bathroom," he said. His eyes began to squint. He couldn't stop turning the thoughts over in his head.   
  
She went to go retrieve a mild pain medication, and brought it back. She tapped the side of his neck. He sighed feeling better.  
  
"Do Vulcan lifemates share their thoughts this way?" he asked.  
  
"Yes, some."  
  
He could tell she was aroused by the experiment and was only slightly disappointed that they could not continue. He kissed her deeply, 'I want to try it again, but not right now.'  
  
She gathered from his thoughts that he wanted to try it again as they were making love. The idea was tantalizing to her. She broke his embrace, wetting her lips. "I do not know if that is a good idea."  
  
He kissed up her neck, bringing her closer to him. His lips made it to her earlobe and he whispered, "I think it's an excellent idea."  
  
Their lips crashed against each others, seeking the other's out. Their hands were wandering each other's bodies. As their embrace became more passionate, he broke away. He picked up her hand and led her to his bedroom.   
  
As he entered, he took off his shirt, kicked off his shoes and socks and began to undo the button on his pants, when her hands stopped him.   
  
"I know it has been a while, aisha, but there is no need to rush," she said. She gathered his hands to help her take off her robes.   
  
He swallowed deeply. He did want to take her quickly. He tried to take a deep breath and contain his excitement.  
  
As she slipped the robes off of her frame, Archer looked at the flimsy material on her. He walked up to her, gathering her in his arms and began to trace his mouth up her throat, biting tenderly at her flesh. He took her shoulder in his mouth, enveloping it like he was tasting a peach.   
  
She picked up his hand and began to nibble on his fingers, suckling his index finger. He hoarsely said, "Maybe we should start now."   
  
She unleashed her thoughts on him and gathered his to her, forming a union of thought. He leaned her onto the bed and kissed at her neck. Her hands tangled wildly into his hair. He could feel how cool his mouth was on her skin, how rough his chin and face were and how soft his hair was between her fingers. She grabbed onto his back -- his muscles were hard.   
  
Each touch was like a domino effect of other reactions. As they began removing the last trace of clothing they were exploring each other's bodies and minds with new abandoned.   
  
Archer felt like he was caught up in a trance. He almost felt like he wasn't controlling his body. His mind began to throb, as if every synapse was being tickled and exhausted. The electricity in his brain was pulsing, teasing him to continue. Just as he felt the experience couldn't be any more exquisite, he fell into another wave of delirium.   
  
He realized he was on top of her. He gasped as he felt the experience as of it were his own – he felt a yearning and a light twinge of pain as he began their intimate embrace. He bit into his lip to stay focused. He heard himself gasping and calling her name. He smelled saltier. He thought his toes were curling into the bedspread, but realized that it was her toes. The unison they shared made it easy to satisfy the other. T'Pol dug her nails down Archer's back. The embrace became feverish.  
  
His brain was on fire, as if it were overloaded with tastes, sensations, sounds and sights. Sensation and experiences toppled against him, enveloping his mind. His desire was whetted to the point of feeling his mind would explode. His thoughts were vanishing into the air and he lost all track of time.  
  
He felt tremors shoot through her body as she grabbed him closer to her in every way imaginable, pressing her body into his. He heard himself grunting loudly as his mind fell into bliss, stumbling into a chasm of the sublime. He kept going, despite his release, wandering into another void of ecstasy. He wanted to take her with him and brought her to the next wave of passion; she moaned.  
  
They continued this dance as Archer felt a blinding light tear through his mind. Every synapse was firing, like lightning bolts through his brain. His body was shuddering and peaking to the point he heard himself cry out. He heard his grunts as yells, getting louder and louder. This final yell, caused T'Pol to break their mental union with distraction. He trembled and then sank into his own thoughts. He gave a slow groan as he put his head into her shoulder heavily.  
  
She stroked his hair. "Are you alright?"  
  
He coughed, causing another quiver to jolt through him. He said hoarsely, "I'm not used to ... Human females, not males, usually have more than one major ...." Thinking the word make him shake again, slightly.  
  
She raised her eyebrow at him, pleased at helping him reach a more heightened sense of passion. "You had at least five."  
  
He felt almost too weak to move. He rolled to her side and onto his back. He put his hand over his forehead. "Oh my God."   
  
"You have said that many times in the past hour and a half," she said.  
  
He tried to sit up, but couldn't. "Jesus." He tried to catch his breath.  
  
Her eyes were twinkling. She stroked his hair, which caused a tiny shudder to pass through him.   
  
She walked across his apartment to the kitchen and grabbed their wine glasses.  
  
He wiped his hands over his face and caught his breath. He swallowed deeply. He realized the sheets were drenched with sweat; he realized he was drenched with sweat.  
  
She walked back into the room and sat on the bed. She held his wine glass out.   
  
He could barely lift his arm; the glass felt like it weighed tons. He lifted himself just enough to take a sip and then put it on his nightstand. He sank back into the bed.  
  
She looked at him. "Are you tired?" she asked.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"It appears you may have ruptured blood vessels in your eyes."  
  
He grinned, weakly. "Woman, what did you do to me?"   
  
She looked over his body and noticed indeed she had bitten, scratched, clawed and bruised him. "I warned you perhaps during intimacy was not the wisest of times to try that mental union."  
  
"Are you kidding? It was a religious experience," he said. He turned on his side slowly. He held up his two fingers for a Vulcan embrace, despite his trembling arms. She met them eagerly.   
  
'Aisha, you are a ferocious lover.'  
  
He smiled, letting his hand fall. "I was thinking the same about you."   
  
She mused twirling his hair in her fingers. "I believe the first time I realized I was attracted to you was when we were kidnapped and bound to each other. You were pressed against me," she said. "I found you distracting. I could sense your thoughts."  
  
He smiled. "You knew I thought you were attractive," he said.  
  
"Yes," she replied. "And yet, I too found you not completely unattractive."  
  
He grinned remembering that she had fallen on top of him; she seemed so annoyed that he caused her to fall, especially with her chest in his face.  
  
'I was annoyed,' she thought.  
  
'I wasn't.'   
  
He entwined her fingers in his. She looked up at the clock. It was only 2037. She could tell Jon wanted to take a nap. She brushed the hair away from his face. "Why don't you rest for a few moments."  
  
He nodded, almost immediately shutting his eyes and letting out a little snore. She raised her eyebrow. She walked over to his closet and put on one of his shirts and enough clothing to feel comfortable.   
  
She walked into the kitchen and looked to see if there was anything edible. She turned her mouth down, realizing there wasn't. She decided to use the time meditating, rather than eat.  
  
After about an hour, Jon woke up, put on his trousers and walked out. He saw T'Pol wearing his Stanford shirt and grinned. He decided not to disturb her and looked in the kitchen for something to eat. He frowned, "Nothing."  
  
T'Pol looked up. "Perhaps we can ask the officers outside?"  
  
He nodded and walked to the bedroom to put a shirt on. He crossed back and opened the door, walking out. "Is it possible to get something to eat?"  
  
Rivers nodded. "We'll ask that something be brought for you."  
  
Archer said, "Something vegetarian, please," and walked back inside.   
  
He grinned at T'Pol standing with his Stanford shirt on that was probably three sizes too big for her, messy hair and long, bare legs. "You look beautiful."  
  
She raised her eyebrow. "Are you feeling better?" she asked.  
  
He turned to her. "It's a little tough to walk, and it's difficult to think. My head hurts."  
  
"I am certain the experience left you weak. Would you like another dosage of the pain medication?"  
  
He nodded. "How can you not be distracted by that kind of unity of thoughts?" he asked.  
  
"From an early age, we are taught principles such as these. After much training and work, they can be perfected." She walked into the bathroom and came back out with another dosage and found the hypospray. She placed it to his neck.   
  
"If this is something I do not become accustomed to, is it possible for you to keep your ... control?"  
  
"Unknown. It is vital we work more on this technique, but not now."  
  
He nodded.   
  
"Your eyes are still bloodshot, aisha."  
  
He staggered. "I feel a little dizzy," he said.  
  
She helped him over to the couch. "Perhaps it is best if you lie down for a while longer," she said.   
  
He stretched out on the couch and closed his eyes. T'Pol went back in the bedroom and put on her robes. She realized the food would be here soon.  
  
Just as she finished dressing, the door chimed. She walked to it as Archer struggled to get up.   
  
"I will get this, aisha," she said.  
  
She opened the door and saw Rivers. "Here," he shoved the food at her.  
  
"Thank you, Ensign," she replied.  
  
He shut the door in her face. She sighed and turned around. She brought the food to the dining table. "Are you well enough to walk over?" she asked.  
  
"I think so," he said.  
  
He staggered up and sat at the table. He was still grabbing his head.   
  
"Perhaps some food will help," she said opening the trays.  
  
He nodded. "Perhaps."  
  
She looked at the trays and noticed they were only vegetarian. "It is obvious they made a mistake."  
  
Archer shook his head. "No. I wanted to make sure they brought a vegetarian meal for you."  
  
"Aisha," she said.   
  
He poked at his food with a fork and squinted. His head was still killing him. "I think I'm going to just hit the sack," he said.  
  
She nodded. "Sleep well."  
  
He got up and kissed her. "You coming to bed soon?" he asked.  
  
She nodded. "Soon, I will most likely stay up and read for a while."  
  
"Wake me up if you need to know where anything is," he said walking toward the bed.  
  
Without brushing his teeth or washing his face, he collapsed onto the bed.  
  
T'Pol furrowed her brow thinking this level of mental exhaustion did not bode well. She began to reflect on the situation for a couple of hours. She looked up realizing how late it was and decided to retire. She looked at Archer's sleeping form. He had on all his clothes. She kissed his cheek.  
  
"Jon?" she asked.  
  
He answered her by turning over and giving a little snore.  
  
She decided to leave him in his clothes and prepared for bed. As she went to sleep she thought about the chance that she'd be waking up every day here. She would start shopping tomorrow for something to make the place seem more like home. She turned over in her mind she didn't have any Earth money, realizing perhaps they would have to work out some of the more mundane things about being a couple, like finances.  
  
Her flurry of thinking seemed to stir Jonathon. He looked up and mumbled, "What time is it?"  
  
T'Pol looked surprised. "It's approximately midnight," she said. She stroked his hair.  
  
"Why are you thinking about finances now?" he asked hoarsely.  
  
She wanted to smile. "I was thinking I have nothing that would constitute as currency here."  
  
"Why do you need some?" he asked, scratching his chin.  
  
"I thought if this would be my abode, there might be a few things I would need."  
  
"I'll give you the money," he mumbled.  
  
"You are not concerned about our financial situation?" she asked.  
  
"No, my father left me some money when he died. Besides, a captain's living wasn't too shabby."  
  
"I have little in the way of possessions," she said.  
  
"I know," he said. "I didn't want to marry you for your money."   
  
She sighed. He took off his shirt and lay back down, draping his hand over her leg. "Never thought you'd have to worry about Earth currency, huh?"  
  
She looked down at him. "No."  
  
He smiled. "I love you." And turned back over and snuggled back into his pillow.  
  
She closed her eyes.  
  
Chapter Eight   
Archer woke up at 0900, feeling like he had a hangover. His head was still hurting. T'Pol was already out of bed and making breakfast. Archer sniffed at the air. He walked out to find her in the kitchen. He raised his eyebrows.  
  
"Are you cooking?" he asked.  
  
"Yes. I am making a Vulcan traditional breakfast," she said. "It something equivalent to rice with certain spices and vegetables."  
  
He nodded. It sounded weird. "Sounds great." He kissed her cheek and wrapped his arms around her waist, looking over at the concoction.  
  
"How did you get the ingredients?" he asked.  
  
"I asked Ensign Rivers for some ... grocery items."  
  
He smiled and buried his face in her neck.  
  
"How is your head?"  
  
"Still hurts a little, but it's much better than last night." He rested his chin on her shoulder and swayed her in his arms. "You shouldn't worry about last night. You have no idea how ... incredible it was."  
  
"I am relieved you enjoyed it. I was concerned that I ... pushed you."  
  
He snuggled her into his arms further. "No ... well, not in a bad way."  
  
He stepped back and looked in the fridge. "Orange juice," he said with enthusiasm.  
  
"I do not know how to make coffee, or I would have begun that for you."  
  
He smiled. "Thanks," he said. He looked to see coffee beans, rather than roast. He smiled more. "You could have used the resequencer," he said.  
  
"I did not think you would enjoy it as much," she said.  
  
He smirked. "That shouldn't have mattered, but you're right." He began making coffee, bringing out his grinder. He turned it on, and winced at the noise.  
  
"I also have bread for your ... toast?"  
  
"Yes," he said. "I bet you're going to tell me you got jelly too."  
  
"I was not about to tell you, but your assumption is correct."  
  
He laughed looking into one of the cupboards. He unscrewed the top and stuck his finger in and licked it. "Mmmm, I'd forgotten how good this is."  
  
"Did you just stick your finger in the jam?" she asked.  
  
He took his finger out of his mouth. "Uhm ...."  
  
She sighed. "I did not wish to have some anyway. Your fingers ...." She frowned slightly, thinking he was crude.  
  
He teased, "You didn't seem to mind sucking my fingers last night."  
  
A tinge of green rose to her face. He chuckled; he frequently didn't win their battle of wits.  
  
He screwed the cap back on and put it in the refrigerator. He took the ground beans and placed them into the coffee maker. Within seconds, the coffee was prepared. He poured it into a cup and opened the fridge for cream.  
  
He frowned seeing a milk substitute – rice milk. He shuddered.  
  
"Vulcans cannot digest milk, Jon," she said.  
  
"This is fine," he said opening it, and then deciding to have his coffee black. He put the rice milk back in the refrigerator. He took a sip of coffee and walked over to the window, looking out at the city waking up. He scratched his head.  
  
"I know your meeting with Admiral Forrest is as 1000, you may want to take a shower. Everything will be completed by that time."  
  
"Okay," he said. He gave her a small pat on the butt.  
  
She flinched, turning to raise a confused eyebrow.   
  
He laughed. "Sorry." Then he mumbled to himself, "Well, not really."  
  
He gave himself another pain injection and rolled his head from side-to-side. He took off his clothes and jumped in the shower. As he closed his eyes and let the water roll off of him, he had the sense he was looking out the window at San Francisco. Rather than fight the image, or try to understand it, he accepted it. He didn't push beyond what was shown to him. He had the sense that T'Pol noticed he was there and was having a similar experience of seeing him in the shower. As the awareness came, she walked to the bathroom. The image faded and Jon found himself in the shower again.  
  
"Jon, did you just sense that?" asked T'Pol with excitement. She poked her head into the shower stall.  
  
"Yes," he said with a smile.   
  
"And your head?" she asked.  
  
"Doesn't feel any worse," he said with a smile.  
  
"This time you allowed the image to be seen without trying to interpret it?" she asked.  
  
"Yes," said Archer with a grin.  
  
"Excellent," she said. "I am pleased with this, aisha."  
  
"Me, too," he said.  
  
She looked in for a moment longer, gazing at his form. He turned to her. "Really," he teased.  
  
She raised her eyebrow and bowed her head as she turned away. "Later," she said quietly.  
  
He grinned. He finished rinsing off, shaving and dressing. After Archer walked into the kitchen, outfitted in his dress uniform. T'Pol looked at him, impressed. "You look quite ... handsome."  
  
He smiled. "Thanks," he said. He sighed, rolling his head from side-to-side.  
  
"Still no word from Admiral Forrest on what this meeting pertains to?" asked T'Pol.  
  
He shook his head. "You know as much as I do," he said.  
  
She nodded. She put a plate in front of him – a yellow sauce on rice with various vegetables. Jon looked down at his plate and bit the inside of his cheek. He looked up T'Pol. Her eyes were wide, as she looked at him intently. He thought of pleasant things, hoping to let her know how much he enjoyed it.  
  
He poked at it with his fork. "Looks, uhm, great." He took a bite and swallowed it with difficulty. He looked up at her and smiled. "Mmmm ....."  
  
She wasn't entirely fooled, but she appreciated his attempt to please her. Rather than let him know she was wise to him, she let him finish. She began eating.   
  
The door chimed as Archer finished his plate. He rushed to the door and opened it. Ensign Rivers piped up, "We need to leave now, sir. Admiral Forrest is expecting you at 1000."  
  
Archer nodded. He put on his jacket and kissed T'Pol. "I'll see you soon."  
  
She nodded. "Jon," she said getting up. "I believe it is customary to say – good luck."  
  
"Yes it is," he said.  
  
"No matter what happens, you do me honor."  
  
He smiled and walked out with Ensign Rivers.   
  
Chapter Nine   
Archer sat in Admiral Forrest's office, waiting for him to arrive. Both Admiral Forrest and Ambassador Soval walked in. Archer stood up at attention.  
  
Soval looked Archer over. "You look well, Archer," he said.   
  
Admiral Forrest frowned at Soval. "Sit down, Jon."  
  
Jon sat down and crossed his legs.   
  
"Earth is very excited to have the Orions and the Andorians as potential allies," said Forrest.   
"We don't know how you did it ... but ...."  
  
Soval spoke up, "But, it was hardly appropriate to contact them and ask for them to speak on your behalf."  
  
"I didn't," said Archer.  
  
Forrest continued, "At any rate, the Andorians insist on you having your title fully restored, and back at Enterprise for their negotiations with us to be valid. Same with the Orions."  
  
Soval corrected Forrest, "A faction of the Orions."  
  
Forrest nodded. "Right."  
  
Archer looked back and forth. "I know you've canceled my trial. Did you decide to agree to their conditions?"  
  
Forrest scratched his head. "I'm not done, Jon. Ambassador Soval was the final vote in your favor."  
  
Archer's mouth hung open. "What?"  
  
Soval crossed in front of Archer. "We do not always see eye to eye, but I was ... impressed with your response to me that you cared about the Vulcan government and our relations with Earth, asking me not to speak on your behalf. I would not have thought you capable of this. Perhaps it proves your ... devotion to being a good captain. Your reasoning was sound."  
  
Forrest continued, "The Andorians and the Orion faction have agreed to send a diplomat to Earth. In fact Starfleet is working with the Earth government to set up a diplomatic area for meetings. I can't tell you how exciting this is for us."  
  
Soval shook his head. "Do not get your hopes up. The Vulcans have tried to set up many such councils without much success. Many of the diplomats were unpredictable and hostile."  
  
Forrest smiled. "Well, then maybe we'll get along with them just fine," he said to Archer with a wink.  
  
Soval shot his eyebrow up. "It seems so. But, it does appear the Vulcans now have an opportunity to work out our differences with the Andorians. We have been at war for many years. Perhaps this time we will reach a more desirable solution. My thanks to you, Archer."  
  
Archer smiled. "I wish I could take credit for this idea, but it was T'Pol's."  
  
Soval nodded. "That seems more logical."  
  
Archer frowned. "Would the Vulcans recognize her marriage to a human, now?"  
  
Soval furrowed his brow. "I shall speak on her behalf."  
  
Archer nodded. "That seems logical." He smiled.  
  
Soval folded his arms across his chest. "Indeed."  
  
Forrest laughed. "Jon, I'm happy to tell you, Enterprise is yours."  
  
Archer asked, "No more fraternization issues, sir?"  
  
Forrest shook his head. "Nope. Besides, I think this time, you wouldn't allow me to come to the wedding."  
  
"Damn straight," Archer chided.  
  
Soval shook his head. "I take it, you will be married on Vulcan as well?" he asked.  
  
"I left that option up to T'Pol," Archer said. "Probably; it sounds like she has many relatives there."  
  
Soval nodded. "You have no idea the number of ... in-laws you will have. Vulcans are very family-oriented. Even your third cousins will be family and come to your ceremony."  
  
Archer's face fell. "Uhm, I'm an only child. I know that T'Pol said she had a large family, but I didn't realize ...."  
  
"I suppose then, she had not told you that I am part of that extended family."  
  
Archer's face fell more. "No."  
  
Soval's eyes lit up. "I have not been invited to the Earth ceremony. I would consider it rude not to ask me to come. You can tell T'Pol I will be there."  
  
Archer nodded as Soval left. Forrest laughed. "Welcome to the family, huh?"  
  
"No, kidding," agreed Jon. "Anything else, sir?"  
  
"One last thing – you were right. Perhaps your union will bring Earth and Vulcan closer together. Already Soval has been ... almost happy with our discussions."  
  
Archer nodded. He got up and stuck out his hand. "Thank you, sir."  
  
Forrest shook it. "See you next week. Oh, decide where your honeymoon is going to be?"  
  
Archer smiled. "T'Pol's never been to much of anyplace on Earth. She's trying to decide between Tibet and the Grand Canyon." Archer walked out the door with a spring in his step.  
  
Chapter Ten: One week later   
Archer was in a small room with Trip. They were both dressed in black collarless jackets with white shirts underneath. Archer had a small flower in his lapel, something that looked like a small rose. He knew it grew on a desert plant of her home planet.  
  
Archer was mumbling to himself in Vulcan.  
  
"Cap'n, you worry too much," he said. "You'll be able to say your vows to her in Vulcan. You've been practicing with Hoshi for a week. Besides I thought that thing in your head ...."  
  
Archer looked at Trip frustratedly, "You mean our mental bond?"  
  
"Yeah. I thought you said it helped you understand Vulcan," he said.  
  
"I understand it, yes. But, I don't know how to say many of the words."  
  
"You'll do fine," said Trip.  
  
"I hope so. You got the ring, right?" asked Jon.  
  
"In my pocket," said Trip patting his jacket.  
  
"I look okay?" asked Archer.  
  
Trip nodded. "For someone who's about to get hitched – yes."  
  
Archer took a deep breath and walked out. He stepped out into 10-Forward on the Enterprise. He smiled as he noticed nearly everyone aboard showed up. The room was filled with a nutmeg-like smell. Candles were lit around the room and a large golden gong with symbols on the frame stood at the back of the room.  
  
Soval was standing in front of the Vulcan gong. Upon seeing Archer, Soval and a few other smattering of Vulcans bowed deeply. The Vulcan ambassador took a large mallet and beat the gong, releasing a deep mystic noise throughout the room. The crowd hushed as Archer walked toward it. T'Pol walked out dressed in a traditional Vulcan wedding gown – a large, red satin gown with Vulcan runes written on it. Archer's grin widened on seeing her. She stood beside him and faced the Vulcan ambassador.  
  
Soval began to speak in Vulcan. He then said the statement over in English, "T'Pol of Vulcan. You have chosen kal'i'farr, marriage, to Jonathan Archer."  
  
"I have," she said with determination. She exchanged glances with Jon.  
  
"His thoughts are yours, you speak as one?" he asked.  
  
"Yes," she said.  
  
He looked toward Archer. "And you hear her voice in your head? Your thoughts are one, you speak as one?"   
  
He nodded, "Yes."  
  
"Jonathan, you wished to say something?" asked Soval.  
  
He cleared his throat and began speaking. "Kol-Ut-Shan si un terish. T'Pol sa'vaya teun, Humans sa'vaya Vulcans di veh kaunsh'es. Natayan ka'lan wi karik'sin. Tes-sh-un teun my'tyezti, T'Pol, sa'vaya ni ashaya Vulcan. Ta'san shoonan. Ta'san vas, aisha, ni pa to-go svi-un ashaya.," said Archer in almost flawless Vulcan.   
  
[IDIC – infinite diversity in infinite combinations. T'Pol and I, Humans and Vulcans are diverse and yet we've reached unity. This unity between us [T'Pol and me] makes me stronger. My unity with you [T'Pol] completes me. And I am someone who thought I would never like or love a Vulcan. You have taught me much. Beloved, you have taught me there are no rules in love.]  
  
She said to him, "Aisha, teun vas s'sayaha ti terish ni pa svinish teun."  
  
[Beloved, I am blessed to join with you.]  
  
T'Pol placed her hand on the mallet, as Archer's hands encircled hers. They hit the gong once. The deep sound resonated throughout the room.  
  
Forrest stepped up and Trip walked up by Jon's side. "A captain's greatest privilege is marrying two people aboard a ship. I haven't had the pleasure of performing a wedding ceremony in many years." He cleared his throat. "Marriage is about unity: the union of two people in love. Jon, do you take T'Pol to be your lawfully wedded wife. To have, hold and love from this day forward? In sickness and in health, until death do you part?"  
  
Jon nodded, "I do."  
  
"And T'Pol, do you take Jon to be your lawfully wedded husband. To have and told hold from this day forward? In sickness and in health, until death do you part?"  
  
"Yes," she said.   
  
Jon smiled. He grabbed T'Pol's hands and faced her.  
  
Forrest looked at Trip as he dug into his pocket and fished out a ring. He gave it to Forrest, who gave it to Archer.   
  
"Jon, repeat after me. With this ring, I thee wed."  
  
Jon slipped the small silver band over T'Pol's ring finger. "With this ring, I thee wed."  
  
Soval gave Forrest another ring with strange Vulcan runes. Forrest turned it over in his fingers and handed it to T'Pol. "T'Pol, repeat after me. With this ring, I thee wed."  
  
"With this ring, I thee wed."  
  
"By the power invested in me. Earth recognizes your union."  
  
Soval bowed. "You are joined in thought and are recognized by Vulcan."  
  
Archer turned to T'Pol. She placed two fingers in the air and he met them eagerly with his own. After a moment, he gathered her into his arms and placed his lips on hers to the delight of the crew. Applause broke out.  
  
Vulcan bells that looked like tiny cymbals on a washboard began shaking. The tinny music was overpowered by the last gong Soval sounded.  
  
Forrest decided not to announce them, as he couldn't pronounce the hyphenated addition both added to their last names.   
  
They made their way to the mess hall where everyone began the reception.   
  
Everyone mingled, grabbing champagne and then ate. After about an hour, Trip stood up. "I remember the first time I heard about T'Pol from Archer, he'd threatened to knock her on her ass."  
  
Archer winced and drank his third glass of champagne. T'Pol was still sipping her first.  
  
Trip continued, "I think that was the first, but certainly not the last time, Jon was interested in her ass."  
  
Laughter filled the room, except for the Vulcans, who looked uncomfortable. Soval also sipped his first glass of champagne. The other Vulcans decided not to drink.  
  
"Working with them on a regular basis gave me an appreciation for both of them. Jon has zest, determination, curiosity, passion and courage. T'Pol is wise, refined, logical and noble. Together, they make not only a great team aboard a starship, but a team in marriage. I have respect for both of them."  
  
Trip continued raising his glass in the air, "T'Pol, you're getting one of my best friends. Jon, you got one classy woman. I'm sure you'll be happy together ... or whatever Vulcans are," he laughed. "Live long and prosper."  
  
Soval nodded and raised his glass drinking after Trip. He stood up. "I understand it is a custom for the best man and a few friends to say something about the couple. I wish to congratulate the couple," he said awkwardly.  
  
Everyone waited a few moments until they realized he was through. Archer said, "Thanks, Ambassador, that was very kind," and sipped his champagne at the toast indicating to the others that's what was intended.  
  
Admiral Forrest stood up. "I've known Jon Archer since he was in," he looked at Archer who yelled back "Too long!"   
  
Forrest smiled. "I knew his father and his mother. I've seen a drive in Archer ever since then. But, it looks like that drive didn't stop at flying starships. When he found out he was being assigned a Vulcan from their High Command, he found it difficult to stomach. Two years later ... here he is. Seems like you owe Soval a thanks," Forrest smiled. "To the happy couple!"  
  
Archer and Forrest hugged for a moment slapping each other lightly on the back, and then both made their way back to their chairs.  
  
Hoshi stood up. "Being on a starship with a bunch of men is sometimes challenging," she turned to Trip with a smile. "I've been working with T'Pol for more than two years. She has not only taught me a lot about dedication and courage, she has taught these values to every member of the crew. Captain, you couldn't have gotten a better woman," she said. She laughed, "And I really mean you couldn't have."  
  
Archer narrowed his eyes as Hoshi laughed harder. T'Pol bowed her head. "Your sentiments are returned, Hoshi," she said calling the ensign by her first name for the first time.  
  
Dr. Phlox stood up. "Ah. I must admit, I saw this relationship coming early on." He leaned up on his toes and threw his hands behind his back to clasp them. "In fact, when Captain Archer's dog was ill, he came to stay with me in sickbay. He fretted about what Sub commander T'Pol's thought of him. That's when he admitted to me he was attracted to her," he mused.  
  
Archer began to sink into his chair, hoping the doctor wouldn't continue.  
  
"In fact, as I recall he had a rather interesting dream that I'm sure Dr. Freud would be very interested in. Captain Archer's dream had a lot to do with rain. Of course, in Human sexuality, Freud likens this to the male's release during sex."  
  
Archer sank further into his seat.  
  
T'Pol grabbed Jon's hand and spoke up, "Doctor, perhaps your fascinating interpretation of my husband's dream can be recounted at another time. Besides, I would not want you to recall that I initiated this relationship with Jon."  
  
Archer looked like she saved him and kissed her on the lips.  
  
The Vulcans at their table seemed shocked at the news T'Pol actually initiated the relationship, except for Soval. He did something unexpected. He stood up again. "To their union."  
  
Glasses clinked as Archer polished off another glass of champagne. Archer had just enough drinks that he was hanging on his new bride slightly, gazing at her. His affection was deep and profound.  
  
The jazz music started and everyone in the room got up to dance or mingle.  
  
'Come on,' thought Archer picking up her hand.   
  
She gave in and let him lead her around the dance floor. She was a little uncomfortable, but found it sweet that Archer was humming along to the music in her ear. He had a wonderful voice and the sensation of his breath against her ear was arousing.   
  
'You seem as if you are slightly inebriated," thought T'Pol.  
  
He winked, bringing her into his arms more. 'Guess I'll be that much easier to get into bed,' he thought with a grin. 'Maybe we can attempt our union of thought again while ....'  
  
T'Pol shot her eyebrow up. 'It is customary for a wedding night to be ... special?'  
  
He grinned. 'Yes.'  
  
'Then your suggestion is accepted,' she thought.  
  
He bit his lip and led her towards the door. 'Maybe we could head back now?' His lips traced her neck.  
  
"Get a room," said Tucker walking toward them.  
  
Archer continued his embrace, kissing up her neck with more passion, as Tucker stood mouth agape.  
  
T'Pol gently pushed Archer off. "Jon, the commander is speaking with you."  
  
Archer was holding T'Pol's gaze, rather than look at his friend. He took her hand in his and brought it to his mouth.  
  
Trip looked at Archer for a second, realizing his friend was tipsy. He turned to T'Pol.   
  
"Looks like someone's excited about your wedding night," he said.  
  
T'Pol raised her eyebrow. "He is not the only one," she said.  
  
Tucker began to giggle. He was glad she admitted that she was excited.   
  
Hoshi put her arm around Trip, as he snuggled her into him. "Will you leave these lovebirds alone, Trip," she said.  
  
Phlox meandered over. "Commander, you're not keeping this couple from beginning their extended wedding mating ritual. Are you?"  
  
T'Pol looked at Tucker quizzically.  
  
Trip looked at T'Pol and furrowed his brow. "Nah, I just came over to wish them uhm ...."  
  
Phlox nodded. "It's customary on Denobulan to escort the couple to the bed chamber after the ceremony." He looked at Archer. "Would you like escorting?"  
  
Archer seemed to come out of a trance. "What?" he asked.  
  
Phlox continued the conversation, "I said do you need to be escorted to your room so you can ...." He paused. "It would be an honor to be your escort."  
  
Archer saw that Hoshi was beginning to bend T'Pol's ear about how wonderful the ceremony was, and how she'd known all along that there was something between her captain and first officer. Archer decided to interrupt.   
  
"T'Pol," he began, he held his fingers out in a Vulcan embrace. He leaned into her ear and whispered, "I'm ready to go."   
  
Dr. Phlox smiled. He cleared his throat. "Commander Tucker, Hoshi, why don't we pick this conversation up with them after they get back from their honeymoon."  
  
Tucker looked confused. "They'll be here tomorrow. They don't leave until tomorrow night."  
  
Phlox furrowed his eyebrows. Tucker nodded and walked away, taking Hoshi with him. Tucker leaned into Hoshi and kissed her head, whispering, "Well, seeing as they're leaving, want to head back to my place?"  
  
Archer looked at T'Pol and grabbed her hand, leading her out the door. As he made it outside the room, he decided to pick his bride up into his arms and make his way down the hall. T'Pol was kissing Archer's neck. Archer would pause occasionally to kiss her lips. Phlox tagged along behind him. "This is very exciting." Phlox was studying their passionate movements.   
  
As Archer reached his cabin, Phlox was almost on their heels. "Thanks for your assistance," he said with a grin. Archer nodded his head away from his door, indicating Phlox should leave.  
  
Phlox's grin turned creepy. "Oh yes, the mating that takes place after the wedding. I will leave you to your rutting." He turned and walked away.  
  
Archer took a breath and carried her into his cabin. "I love you," he said.  
  
She turned to him and touched his cheek. "I love you, too."  
  
He smiled setting her down on her feet. "You know, that's the first time I've heard you actually say that," he said taking off his jacket.  
  
"It will not be the last," she said.   
  
He chuckled softly, "Good." He initiated their mind union as he began to work his hands over her robe and walking her toward the bed.  
  
She whispered, "It is customary after being married on Vulcan to mate all night."  
  
He laughed. "I think I'll have more than just a few broken blood vessels in my eyes, but I'd like to honor that tradition."  
  
Their lips joined and he mused about the hell of a night and lifetime he was going to have.   
  
The End. 

[top]

Disclaimers to Star Trek, UPN and Paramount©2003.   
Video captures by fabulous Enterprise 8875©2003.   
Reviews provided by Monica. 


	5. SR5: Two Gentleman of Verona

Some Rules are Meant to be Broken, Part 5: Two Gentlemen of Verona 

Some Rules are Meant to be Broken: one two three four five

Archer smiled to himself as he thought, "Married."

Glancing over at his sleeping wife, he gave a contented sigh and twirled his wedding band in between his forefinger and thumb. It'd been a few months, but the whole experience felt new, especially since they had two days off in a row together, before they went back to work. Today was their last day of freedom. They had the luxury of time now – stars to chart, aliens to meet and planets to visit. Deep in space without a lot of aliens to shoot at them or planets to visit, Archer decided on small vacations for the crew. He and T'Pol were the last officers to a holiday, and decided to spend it enjoying themselves. And, they certainly enjoyed it.

T'Pol stirred and blinked two weary eyes. Her eyebrow twitched as he watched her.

"Will it be like this every morning?" she asked.

He smiled wider, "God, I hope so."

"You are endearing," she said to him. Her fingers snaked around his stubbled chin as he gave a goofy grin.

As he leaned over to kiss her, she turned away from his breath. He frowned at her reaction. "I _was _going to tell you I could get breakfast, but I think you're on your own now," he teased.

"Breakfast?" she asked with interest. "I _am _hungry. Tea and a some fruit should suffice," she ordered, nuzzling her head against the pillow.

Archer furrowed his eyebrows at her – bemused. "Don't you want something more substantial?" he asked rolling on top of her.

"Are you offering me something else?" she whispered.

He chuckled, "What do you think?"

The comm beeped as Archer looked at it with irritation. He fell to his spouse's side and leaned over to answer it, flexing his finger against the button.

"Archer here. Go ahead."

"Cap'n, I received a call from a Vulcan ship in the area that has taken damage recently. They've asked to dock with us so we can help repair their ship," said Trip.

T'Pol's eyes widened with concern. _'Jonathan?' she thought._

"Is the vessel in trouble?" he asked, smoothing a hand over his wife's cheek.

"No, sir. No casualties, just ship damage," said Trip. "And, the repairs they need are pretty minor … at least to get going. Seems we're the nearest vessel."

T'Pol snuggled against the covers.

Relieved, the captain asked, "Well, what do you think? You _are_ the acting captain."

"Just giving you a head's up," replied Trip. "Already confirmed their story. Everything seems like it checks out."

"Then by all means have them board with us. In fact, why don't you invite them to dinner tonight. Ask Chef to prepare a Vulcan meal for our guests."

"Yes, sir," agreed Trip. "Uhm, does that mean I'll see you for dinner? _Both_ of you? I just thought it being your first vacation since your honeymoon and all …."

"Yes, we'll both be there," Archer confirmed. He hated duty sometimes, but it nagged at him like a wife … well, maybe that wasn't the best analogy.

"Carry on," teased Trip, thinking the two were 'sleeping' in.

Archer took his hand away from the comm and tilted his head down at his wife. Much to his chagrin, her eyes had already drifted closed again as if sleep was on her agenda.

"So what's it going to be for breakfast?" he whispered, trying to wake her. His body pressed against hers, kissing her neck. "Me or fruit?"

An eyebrow flicked, unveiling two slits of green.

"Difficult decision," she whispered. As she saw him smile and lean over for a deeper kiss, she replied, "Fruit and tea."

Archer winced. "Hen-pecked husband," he said pushing himself off the bed. He jumped into some clothes and then swung his t-shirt on the end of his finger, taunting her. "Yep, I think you just made a mistake Vulcan."

He could tell she was amused through their bond.

_She thought, 'Aisha, surely I may have my cake and eat it too?'_

He raised a single eyebrow, as if to mock her. "I don't know. My ego is pretty bruised."

'Very well..,' she thought, shutting her eyes again.

Jonathan puffed up his chest, hoping she would whisper something seductive back. Ah, why was he complaining; he'd been getting almost as much action this week as when she'd entered Pon Farr. Although his first time with this woman was incredible, he enjoyed not feeling battered and bruised the next day – yup, his time with her now was … more relaxed, but still exciting.

Instead of continuing those thoughts, he focused his attention on a small beagle that peered up with large eyes. Archer frowned, "And I suppose you want something too?"

Porthos barked, yipping an order.

"No cheese," argued Archer as he bounded out the door and down the corridor to the Mess Hall.

T'Pol almost felt giddy. His caresses in the morning were always more wanton than in the evening – something they did _not_ have in common. She preferred nocturnal embraces -- mingling thoughts after mediation and with a clean mind was highly satisfying. She was pleased she was able to cajole him last night after hearing a slight snore escape his lips as she ended her nightly ritual. He'd been going to bed earlier than usual and was hard to … convince.

Every morning for the past week, the two had nearly been late to work due to lingering passionate embraces. If hunger and her need to tease him hadn't taken over, she would've welcomed his touch … she would have reveled in it. Had they simply entered into a new phase of their relationship?

For the past week, she'd been unable to get enough of the man. She'd wanted to hold his hand, be enveloped in his arms, hear his rumbling laugh and watch him … just look at him read or sleep. Ironic that apparently he had the same urges, as was evident by seeing his sleepy moss-green eyes this morning.

Strange. Lately just seeing him caused her heart to race and her pulse to quicken. It wasn't necessarily lust, but something much more sublime and peaceful – it was a feeling of warmth and security. Indeed, her spirit was wistful – content. Supremely so. One might even say … happy? He'd always touched her, moved her, made her feel what she gathered must be love, but this was much more encompassing.

As she mused on her relationship, suddenly a disturbing thought crossed her mind. A ghost-like voice tickled her brain and conjured up forgotten images and memories. An arid breeze drifted across her mind, scented like the Vulcan incense used in the temples and in the Great Hall. A flashes of images washed over her – a fountain, temple doors closing, the ritual of adulthood and the incantations spoken during the wedding promise. The air was stale and the jumble of visions confusing. Someone was placing them in her mind purposefully. Someone?

Someone was calling out to her through the Vulcan art of telepathy.

'Jonathan?' she asked.

_ 'Change your mind?' she heard her husband ask, whimsically._

Ignoring his playfulness, she asked, 'Have you been trying to contact me?'

'No. Why?'

_'I thought I heard your voice.' _But, the scent was wrong; the feel was wrong. It didn't sound like his voice – this one was much deeper.

'No. Maybe it's just your imagination?' asked Jonathan as a thought.

_'Perhaps,' she said._

It worried him that she had no retort. He'd fully expected to hear, 'Vulcans do not have imaginations,' That worried him. 'I'll be there as soon as possible,' he thought.

She lay back on the bed as the same voice echoed in her mind, getting louder and more pronounced. Quantifying it, she recognized it in a way, but it was not familiar. It was like a long lost relative that she had met as a child.

Chanting, calling resonating deep within her katra as if it were part of her – it twisted around the canals of her mind. The speech pattern was unmistakably … Vulcan and the timbre was definitely male.

'T'Pol…' the voice murmured quietly.

She denied it; 'This cannot be.'

'You hear me,'.

"Leave me alone," she said in a near-yell.

The door slid open and Archer hurriedly stepped over the portal, put down the tray of food and jogged to her. He crouched down, cradling his wife to his chest.

"Someone is calling out to me," she whimpered with exasperation – an _emotion_.

"I don't understand," replied Archer.

The booming voice called to her again _'T'Pol'_; it was louder, closer … and almost as clear as Jonathan's.

"Someone is trying to contact me," she said aloud, afraid the voice would hear her.

He looked at her with confusion when the comm went off: "Tucker to Captain Archer."

Archer neglected his captainly duties for a moment until his wife gave him a nod, indicating she was all right; then he reluctantly walked to the comm.

"Archer."

"Cap'n, there's a Vulcan here who says he used to be T'Pol's …," said Trip.

"Koss," she murmured with fear. Archer squinted his eyes at the name of her pre-determined bond mate.

"Is his name: Koss?" the captain asked into the comm.

Trip guffawed, "Sure is. How'd you know?"

Terror danced in her eyes. _'I do **not **want to see him.'_

Archer furrowed his brow and spoke into the comm. "We'll meet him tonight at dinner."

"I'll let him know. Tucker out."

'Not tonight, not ever,' thought T'Pol, lying back and bringing the covers to her.

"What's going on?" asked Archer sitting on the bed.

'I will never speak to him. I will never acknowledge him.'

"Well, he's here. He knows you're here." He scratched his head. "Why are you afraid of him?"

'He can still reach me … my thoughts,' she began.

Her lips began to move -- afraid that he would hear her if she continued to use her bond. "This is an abomination; a blight on our connection – yours and mine, Jonathan."

Her eyes pleaded with Archer's as he stared back trying to figure out what the hell this meant.

"Can you not hear his voice?" she asked, her voice rife with frustration.

He paused as if to listen to something important, shifting his eyes from side to side.

"No, I can't hear him. What does that mean, he can still reach you?" he asked sipping his coffee. His finger traced the tip of her ear.

Trying to emphasize the seriousness of the situation, she turned from his caress.

"I still hear his thoughts. That should be impossible. You and I are bonded. We alone."

"He shouldn't be able to communicate with you?" he asked.

"No. When a life bond is taken, it … drowns out all other voices, except those of the family."

"Then, why do you hear his thoughts?" he asked.

"That is my concern. I don't know."

"You and he were bond mates …" he stated. "Is it possible his bond with you is … still there?"

"Possibly."

"Has this ever happened before?" he asked.

"When a bond is … imperfect. Yes."

The weight of her statement hoisted onto him -- their bond was possibly imperfect.

"Should I be able to hear him?" he asked.

"I don't know." Vexation weaseled into her eyes, "I don't want him to interfere with our thoughts. They are private … between you and me."

"I want our thoughts to remain private as well," he said. He brushed a lock of hair away from her forehead as if to console her. "But, maybe there's a more … logical explanation."

She turned away from her husband and put the covers up to her ears.

Trying to make the best of a bad situation, he asked, "T'Pol, so what if you hear his voice? Is that the most important thing?" He lay down beside her and nuzzled his nose into her neck in comfort.

"No," she responded after a long pause. However, on Vulcan, there were more serious consequences, if that was the case.

"It doesn't matter to me anyway," he lied. It bothered him that she heard Koss' voice; he felt jealous, but he tried to shove those feelings aside so they wouldn't reach her.

She continued to glare at the wall trying to tamp down her feelings. Archer'd never seen this side of his spouse; she was sullen and moody … for a Vulcan.

"Hey," he said sweetly, hugging her to him.

She squirmed out of his grip, 'I would prefer time to reflect on this situation.'

He frowned and took off his shoes and got underneath the covers, pressing her naked body against his fully clothed one. The situation was baffling, but he thought it best to console her. There'd be plenty of time to ask questions later.

'T'Pol, I won't let Koss come between us.' His thoughts enveloped her and drowned out the other man's call. Protection eased her troubled-brow, slowed her rapid breathing and released the tension in her stomach.

Feeling better, she instantly sank into his touch, rolled over to face him and placed her moist lips on his mouth. Jonathan wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but the horse had been mighty generous lately. As he reflected on his good fortune, her hand slipped under his shirt as she kissed him feverishly.

"You belong to me, Jonathan. Your body and thoughts are mine," she whispered, hotly in his ear. Her teeth bit roughly into his earlobe and neck as he pulled her closer to him.

"Tell me that I'm yours."

"You're mine," he hissed against her mouth, succumbing to her. As his mouth connected with hers and his tongue parted her lips, she retreated.

T'Pol asked again, more demanding, "Claim me."

Grabbing her closer to him, he growled, "You're mine."

Her fingers crawled along his jaw until it reached his temple. "Prove it."

Chapter Two: Several Hours Later 

Archer looked up at the clock feeling nervous. He put his book down and watched his wife get ready. There was no doubt in his mind she was unhappy about being asked to attend dinner tonight. She, under no circumstances, wanted to see Koss. Period. And, she'd been giving him the silent treatment ever since he suggested they get ready.

"You're not mad at me, are you?" asked Jon, watching her over his book.

He'd already been waiting for half on hour – which was completely unlike her. Typically, she was ready in fifteen minutes. In human terms, she was a low maintenance woman. But tonight, she spent more time than usual on her hair and makeup – as if dawdling and primping.

"Angry? I am a Vulcan …."

Jon rolled his eyes at the line.

"I am … unsettled. And, I believe you know my wishes about this evening."

"Ha! You _are_ mad at me," feeling through his bond that she was irritated.

She flicked an eyebrow at him. "Believe what you will."

"Have you heard his voice again?" he asked, ambling over to her. His arms draped around her waist, as he admired her reflection in the bathroom mirror.

"It's faint … but there. It's been there all day."

'All day?' he asked himself, wondering if it had been there this morning as they made love. He sighed and kissed the back of her neck. "When was the last time you saw him?"

"Approximately fifteen years ago."

"Why so long? You left for Earth … five or six years ago?" he asked her reflection.

"Yes, approximately. It's not that I didn't want to see him. We were both merely … busy."

He guffawed, "It seems kinda hard to be busy for fifteen years."

She retorted, "Not if your lifespan is possibly two hundred years."

Archer shrugged.

Gazing into the mirror one last time, she wondered why she was making such an effort to look appealing. Her eyes stopped on the handsome man behind her, grinning at their reflection.

"You look nice," he commented, giving a lopsided smile hoping to get back in her good graces.

"I'm ready," she announced.

"Good." He intertwined his hand with hers and started making his way down the hall with her.

As they reached the Mess Hall, she let her hand slip away from his. Archer saw three Vulcans "chatting" with Trip. He spotted Koss right away and stopped dead in his tracks. The Vulcan was not exactly what he had seen in T'Pol's mind. Her image of him was shorter, weaker and less attractive; the captain was disappointed that the Vulcan was taller than he by a few inches, and better looking than T'Pol had imagined him. Much better looking. The corners of Jon's lips turned down.

T'Pol also spotted Koss and decided his visage had improved with age. He was relatively tall, 6'3", and moderately thin -- 180 lbs. Thick black hair fell in perfect order around his green tinted face and his large black eyes sported long dark lashes. The Vulcan was definitely more handsome than she remembered. Unearthed memories on how she felt about him become unburied – she'd thought of the man as something in between a friend and an acquaintance. His family was exceedingly happy for Vulcans, bordering on jovial; she gathered it was because his parents seemed like a perfect fit. It was rare on Vulcan to see something that she now knew was love between the two; and Koss and his brother Sten seemed like the products of that union. T'Pol recognized in herself that she was more emotional than many Vulcans; she gathered it was a trait from her mother – something her father always abhorred. But, Koss seemed to welcome and accept her emotions; he was curious, somewhat proud (it came from being cherished by one's parents) and had something that appealed to her – passion. She had trouble remembering what made them incompatible. In an instant it came trickling back; she was definitely never stirred by him, he didn't appeal to her sense of adventure and he was too attached to his home planet.

Koss had moved into the field of architecture because he was "impassioned" to build a better Vulcan – make the planet stronger. T'Pol didn't want to feel tethered to her planet. The cosmos and adventure spoke to her as much as it did her husband; it was a siren to _both _of them. Besides, Jonathan, stirred her; he gave passion, eagerness and love unconditionally. Her choice, possibly no matter where she was, would always be her husband. The human had whispered often enough to her they were soul mates, destined to be together. And she believed it. Even now.

Picking up a glimpse of her thoughts, he turned to her and raised an eyebrow. The other Vulcans continued talking with Commander Tucker.

As Archer approached, Tucker smiled. "Here they are."

Koss gave the Vulcan IDIC greeting. "Greetings. T'Pol, it has been many years."

_'You let your hair grow, it's becoming," he thought. "I'm glad to see you are alive.'_

Rather than address the comments, she avoided his gaze and bowed her head. "Greetings," she claimed, returning the gesture.

Archer thought he noticed Koss' eyes strolling over his wife and drew his lips into a taut, jealous line.

Koss thought the captain was younger than someone in that position should be. Humans were undoubtedly redder and always looked flushed or flustered. He gathered Archer's demeanor was no different. His hubris was off-putting, but of course with humans it was to be expected … as was his odor. Though, he noted it had a tinge of Vulcan incense.

Trip noticed the two men squaring off and mentioned, "Uhm, this is Captain Archer and Enterprise's first officer and the captain's wife, T'Pol."

Koss seemed _almost _startled. "Wife?"

Tucker smiled, thinking this would probably be the most interesting meal he'd ever had with a bunch of Vulcans.

A stockier, shorter Vulcan with gray hair spoke up. "My name is Starn. I am the captain of the S'Lavan, the damaged ship that your engineer is helping to repair. This is T'Mair a fellow scientist. We are both from the Science Directorate. And, it appears you are familiar with Koss."

T'Mair was also older, but refined. She had dark, stone-like eyes and a severe expression plastered onto her face.

Archer waved everyone to sit down, pulling out a seat for his wife with a wink.

The captain leaned back in his seat and mentioned, "Well, you're a long way from home for an architect."

Koss agreed, "Indeed."

The captain eyed the man, expecting an explanation or story, but heard nothing. He shot a brief glance to Trip, who rolled his eyes subtly.

Trip plopped his elbows on the table, leaned over it, grabbed a bowl and started fishing around for some celery sticks.

"Star was telling me their ship ..." said Trip, pointing toward the Vulcan with the uneaten vegetable.

Koss corrected, "Starn, Commander."

Trip smirked. "That their ship was raided." He crammed the celery stick into his mouth and listened thoughtfully.

Jon asked, raising his eyebrows. "Raided? By whom?"

"Nausicaans," said Starn. "The equipment that we had aboard is considered valuable."

"What experiments were you conducting?" asked T'Pol.

'Is Archer the reason you will not answer my thoughts, T'Pol?' asked Koss as a thought. 'I was concerned about you after you contacted me a few months ago.'

Starn agreed, "Yes. There was a class nine nebula that, to date, has not been logged into the Vulcan database. I decided to take a few sample readings. Unfortunately, the equipment could be sold at a rather large profit. No doubt that is precisely what they have done."

T'Pol looked at her husband to determine if he'd heard Koss' thought to her.

Jon glanced at T'Pol; he could tell something was bothering her. "Sounds … fascinating," he said aloud. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to share that data?"

Tucker picked up the bowl full of celery sticks and offered it to Starn. The captain of the Vulcan ship turned his nose up, disgusted that the engineer had already touched the food with his hands.

Starn replied, "No, thank you, Commander. Yes, of course we can share our data with you, Captain."

Jon smiled, "We'd appreciate it."

Koss began to speak, "Captain, I believe you are aware that T'Pol and I were … T'Pol, what is the word in English?"

Jon continued to smile. "Yes, I'm aware you two were engaged. I understand that T'Pol chose to remain here and broke off your betrothal."

Koss' twinkling eyes turned dull. "I see."

"Aren't you married now?" asked Jon with a half-grin.

Koss folded his arms across his chest. "I am no longer married. My spouse perished this year."

Archer's face fell, "I'm sorry to hear that."

Koss thought to T'Pol, 'I doubt he could understand.'

T'Pol ignored him and sought out her husband's eyes. Jon glanced at her and wrinkled his forehead; she was acting very peculiar.

"You should have more of the r'la'ntha," said Archer, pointing it out to Koss.

The Vulcan raised his eyebrow and took a helping of the appetizer. He politely tasted some and looked at T'Pol.

_'This tastes nothing like rh'la'ntha,' he thought. _

'Stop,' she thought to Koss.

Archer heard her thoughts. "T'Pol?" he asked aloud.

"I must apologize. I do not feel well." She stood up and began to walk out.

Perplexed at her behavior, Archer pushed himself out of his chair. If he didn't know any better, she was acting downright emotional and possibly rude to the guests. She was always the epitome of control and duty. What had gotten into her?

"Excuse me for a moment," apologized Archer to the guests, before darting after her.

He caught up with T'Pol in the corridor outside the mess hall and took her arm. "What's going on? You seem … angry."

"I am unsettled. Very unsettled," she said. "I asked not to see him again."

_'Can you still hear my thoughts?' she transmitted to him through the bond. _

For some reason, she felt the need to continue to check in, as if at any moment, she would lose contact with her husband.

_'Yes,' he thought back, still perplexed._

_'And you do not hear Koss'?' _

_'Not so far,' Archer thought to her._

_'Do my thoughts seem … less clear than usual?'_

He pondered the question for a moment. _'Not really.'_

She averted his eyes and continued to almost scowl at the floor.

_'Do you want me to walk you back to our quarters?'_

_'That is unnecessary.' _

He lifted two fingers. _'We'll talk about this when I get home tonight.' _

She met his two fingers and ranted, 'He should not be able to communicate with me.'

Frustration forced her hands quickly and heavily back to her side.

He blinked – she was definitely not the same T'Pol he had known. _'Can you block his thoughts or end the link?'_

Her eyes darkened, _'No.'_

He consoled her by taking her cheek into his palm. _'Are you going to be okay?'_

She gave a curt nod.

_'Is it okay if we discuss this later?' he asked._

_With only slight hesitation she responded, 'Of course.' _

He put his hands on his hips and examined her. After she looked up at him stoically, he kissed her forehead. Her lips twitched, she straightened her spine, clasped her hands behind her back and strolled down the hall. Vulcan again.

Archer was unnerved. Irritation prickled his skin as he strode back into the dining room and saw that dinner had already arrived.

"Hope you don't mind Cap'n, we decided not to wait for ya," said Trip, digging into his meal.

"I understand," replied Archer, tossing his napkin back in his lap. "My apologies. T'Pol …."

Starn shook his head. "You need not explain anything to us. T'Pol has been around humans many years. It appears your emotions and …."

Archer was about to interrupt and correct the Vulcan, when Koss beat him to the punch, "How long have you been married to T'Pol, Captain?"

Starn raised his eyebrow at the architect and returned to his meal. T'Mair also seemed uninterested in their marriage, but eyed the young Vulcan with skepticism.

"About three months," stated Archer.

Koss' slender fingers formed a temple under his chin. "It is rare to see a Vulcan marry a member of another species. Would it be prying if I asked whether Vulcan has recognized this marriage?"

"No, it wouldn't be prying. Vulcan _has _recognized our marriage."

"Interesting. I would not have expected it. Our relationship with humans is still relatively new."

"New? You've known our people for about 100 years," quipped Tucker.

Archer shot a grin at his friend.

"Exactly as I said – new. But, then again you have a shorter lifespan," mentioned Koss. "Captain, you look to be in good health for a man your age. I would assume you are in your late thirties, early forties?"

"That's right," he agreed, furrowing his brow in confusion.

"Then I would estimate that you have another 60 or so years before you perish," said Koss.

"If I'm lucky," smiled Archer.

"T'Pol is young for a Vulcan. She has easily another one hundred years," noted Koss.

"I'm aware of that," retorted Archer.

"Interesting. Are you also aware of the probability of having children? 99.1% impossible," said Koss.

"That gives me .9% chance. I think I can handle that," countered Archer. He gave a smug grin.

Koss said, "It is unfortunate. T'Pol has always had a … fondness for them."

Tucker, Starn and T'Mair looked as though they were at a tennis match, turning from the architect to the captain.

"Yes she does. Is this going somewhere?" Archer asked.

"Just … curious. It seems my questions are upsetting you," said Koss.

"I think that's what you're trying to do," Archer shot back.

"On the contrary. I am fascinated in T'Pol's … choice. I would not have thought she would choose to marry a … human." He paused, sizing Archer up. "On Vulcan before she left, she indicated her distaste for Terrans. In my correspondence with her on Earth, she … hoped her stay would not be long."

"Things change," grinned Archer.

"It appears so," said Koss.

Starn used the brief silence to make his escape. "Captain, the conversation at dinner was most … unusual. Thank you for inviting us," he said.

"I also am prepared to retire," said T'Mair eagerly getting up to leave.

Archer raised his eyebrows and offered, "But, the chef made a Vulcan dessert."

"I am certain Koss will stay and eat this … dessert," said Starn getting up.

Archer stood up as both made their way to the door and sighed as they exited the Captain's Mess.

"You're staying, Koss?" he asked.

"Of course," agreed the Vulcan watching the others leave. He sat back and made himself comfortable, crossing his legs.

Trip glanced toward the door, hoping to make his getaway.

Archer frowned, "Trip you have some duties to perform?"

"Yes, sir. I'll be on the Bridge." Trip added with a devilish grin, "Enjoy the last day of your vacation."

Dessert was served as the two adversaries continued to talk.

"When did your wife die?" asked Archer sticking a spoon into the orange gushy fruit.

"Approximately eight months ago," said Koss. "I was … what _you_ might call grieving until recently."

"How long do Vulcans grieve?"

"It depends. There is no slated amount of time. It is difficult to stop hearing your mate's voice or thoughts. In my case, it was not that difficult." He eyed Archer drinking some iced tea. "Do you hear T'Pol's thoughts?"

Archer choked on his drink and dabbed at his lips. After a few seconds of coughing he recovered enough to say, "Yes."

"And … is she able to hear yours?" he asked.

"Yes."

Koss' eyes twinkled. _'Can you hear me, Archer?' thought Koss._

Jon looked at him blankly, wondering why he was silent. "Are you trying to contact my wife?"

The Vulcan shot an interested eyebrow against his bangs. "No."

"But you have today?"

"Yes," he replied.

Beginning to get angry, Archer asked, "Why are you interfering? Weren't you … bonded … to your wife?"

"I was bonded to her, but the depth of my bond was not as strong. You see, T'Pol and I have been 'bonded' of a sort for many years – more than a half of a century … that's older than you are, Captain."

"I'd prefer you didn't use it to communicate with her. _She_ doesn't want you to either."

"I understand your reservation. It is curious that you can communicate with her. The Science Directorate claims this is 91.5% impossible."

He grinned. "I told you I could handle small chances."

"Fascinating," claimed Koss.

"You'll stop communicating with her?" asked Archer.

"She deserves someone who can fully bond with her," said Koss, changing tactics.

"I am fully bonded with her," said Jon.

"No. If you were, she would not hear _my_ thoughts."

"We haven't had that long to practice," he retorted lamely.

"Bonding should take no practice. I'm sure she turned to you during her Pon Farr," said Koss.

Feeling his blood pressure rise, Archer squirmed in his seat. Before Koss could continue, he said, "I thought Vulcans didn't discuss this with off-worlders, or amongst themselves."

"Captain, I felt her need. She asked me to mate with her. She begged me. But, I was unable to be here … and thus she chose you. It seems logical to mate with you rather than perish. And, as Vulcan customs stand, I can understand why she chose to remain with you. T'Pol is quite loyal."

"I don't believe you," spat Archer.

"T'Pol reached out to me. I was her first and initial choice."

"You're lying," he said.

"Your reaction, although irrational, is understandable. I can assure you I speak the truth," said the Vulcan. "A series of unexpected events occurred. I felt her Pon Farr … her need for me. One day, her mind discontinued reaching out for me. I assumed she had perished."

Archer scowled.

Koss continued, "Of course. Perhaps it was the bond that was already established many years ago. When I felt her mind go silent, I joined Starn and T'Mair so that I might collect T'Pol's body on behalf of her family."

"Why'd the journey take three months?" he asked, challenging this theory.

"I arranged my affairs at home, asked for a leave of absence from my place of work, booked passage, the attack …. Because she was dead, I did not believe her body was going anywhere."

"Why didn't you contact us before?" asked Archer. "Let us know you were coming."

"The ship caused damage to some of our navigational systems. It was by chance you happened onto us."

Archer's eyes shifted back and forth trying to figure out whether he could believe this story.

"I had not anticipated T'Pol would select to mate with a human."

Archer's stomach flipped and flopped. "She mentioned you, but indicated you weren't quite … compatible."

"Did she? If my thoughts are still clear to her, Archer, she may also be bonded to me; I may be more … compatible with her than you."

The information hit the captain like a ton of bricks, slamming against his psyche.

"I would like her to return to Vulcan with me. Or, I will join her here."

"She chose me. We're married," Archer said with confusion.

"Did she choose you because you had already mated?" asked Koss rhetorically. "Vulcans are not humans. They do not want … love. Honor, loyalty, trust … these are the things that bind Vulcans together. Romantic affection is a human feeling, and one we do not need or want." He steeled his eyes on the captain, watching him squirm. "I can provide her with many things you will never be able to offer – like children and stability. When we meet other Vulcans, we would be welcome, not a disturbing oddity. Our minds would satisfy each other. I would be able to care for her for another one hundred years. None of these options are available to you, Captain."

Archer scoffed, "That's about enough."

"You are being typically illogical." Koss raised his eyebrow, "I want what is best for her. Do _you_?"

"Isn't that her decision?" Archer asked. "And I think she already made it."

"Pride, arrogance – I was warned of those human emotions."

"That's funny, because they sure as hell don't seem isolated to humans."

The two stared each other down as the Vulcan furrowed his brow. After a few moments, he stood. "I believe I will also retire, Captain."

Archer nodded.

"This has been a most … illuminating discussion."

With that, Koss strolled out and Archer put his spoon down angrily. It was time to speak with his wife.

Chapter Three 

Archer marched down the hallway to his quarters, cursing under his breath every time his boot clapped against the deck plating. T'Pol had never embarrassed him before; he couldn't believe her audacity in leaving out important details about her relationship with Koss.

'Maybe that's why she didn't feel well,' he thought cynically.

When Archer entered his quarters, he saw T'Pol sound asleep. He paced around the room for a few minutes, feeling enraged and needing to find out what the hell was going on. But, he didn't want to wake her; she slept soundly and peacefully … and looked angelic doing so. Instead of shaking her shoulders and demanding an explanation, he sighed and sat down by her on the bed, turning the discussion with T'Pol ex-boyfriend over in his mind.

She stirred, sensing his thoughts about her. "Jonathan?" she asked sleepily.

Opportunity knocked – and he was going to answer, screw whether she felt tired. "You reached out to Koss during Pon Farr?" he accused right away.

She was nearly startled by the question. "It is senseless to bring up the past ….'

"I don't think so," he snapped.

She continued calmly, "Of course I reached out to a Vulcan before you. I was unwilling to admit my … feelings for you. And, I did not believe I would actually reach him. However, we've been bonded for so many years, it appears he heard me … even at a great distance."

"Why didn't you tell me before we saw him?" he asked.

"I did not think that detail was important."

Guffawing, he quipped, "Oh. Is that right?!" Spinning on his hells he wheeled around to her and growled, "Well, from now on, I'd like a little full disclosure."

"Do you tell me all your feelings about past girlfriends?" she asked.

He shirked the question, nostrils flaring.

"Jonathan, I also reached out to him because Vulcan mating rituals are quite … aggressive. I did not wish to harm you."

"I thought I handled it pretty well."

"I was gentle with you," she said.

"_That _was gentle?" he asked with wide eyes.

"Most assuredly. Besides, as I mentioned, I was unwilling to admit my attraction and … feelings … for you. Once we had mated, they were impossible to deny … although I did try."

"I remember. Koss actually told me he thought he'd make a better mate for you. Can you believe it?"

T'Pol pondered a life with Koss. She imagined intelligent children quietly reading in their rooms, their tiny pointed ears barely visible above large Vulcan scrolls. Her career as a scientist would undoubtedly be fulfilled at the Science Directorate in Shi'Kar. When he returned from work at night, he would most likely lead his children in the teachings of Surak and possibly meditation. And then, retire himself. The idea of waking up next to Koss seemed distasteful. He was a handsome man, possibly more passionate than the average Vulcan, but she doubted he would shower her with tiny kisses in the morning, sing in the shower or let loose a smile. Life would be mundane.

Her mind wandered to Jonathan's brood. They would be wild, uncontrollable, curious, prideful, excitable, charming and challenging. Hopefully they would have his warm green eyes and possibly his gentle smile, if they chose to embrace his culture. Her husband was not the _most _emotional man she'd ever met – that title belonged to Commander Tucker – he was a perfect balance of logic and feelings. Her children with him, if she could have them, would be treasured and enjoyed by both of them. This lifestyle appealed to her; she craved it. It was new, different and full of adventure.

Archer picked up a few of these thoughts, but seemed for the most part bewildered.

T'Pol was hesitant to inquire: "Did he ask to bring me home?"

"Not in so many words, but yes," he said. "Ridiculous, huh?"

She didn't seem amused.

'You're thinking about it?!' he demanded.

"Aisha, Koss may challenge our marriage – the K'lan'tat."

Archer narrowed his eyes. "Huh?"

"The K'lan'tat -- the wedding challenge. It is an ancient tradition; I know very little about it."

"Tell me what you know."

"After he asks me to choose my mate, he can take my decision to a Vulcan arbitrator to determine which of you I should be with … if he can prove I am able to hear his thoughts."

"An arbitrator decides who you should marry?" he asked. "Not you?"

"He will question my logic in choosing you. It _is _obvious, is it not, that I would choose you?" she asked.

"Well, I'm glad you confirmed it."

"We belong together," she said, stroking his hair.

He nuzzled his head into her hand. "I think so, too."

"I am certain that Koss is distressed I hear your thoughts at all. You do not realize how rare it is, Jonathan."

A thought drifted from his brain – _great … rare … some comfort_. It was times like these he wasn't crazy about Vulcan traditions.

As he got undressed and ready for bed, he questioned, "But, Vulcans do marry outside their species?"

"The number may be as low as … 10% of Vulcans do," she noted. "Most are considered outcasts. I am fortunate that Vulcan recognized our marriage. However, if Koss requests arbitration and we do not attend, we may have our marriage nullified according to Vulcan."

Archer slipped under the covers with his wife and propped his head on his hand, staring into her eyes. "You know, Koss was afraid he'd have to take your dead body back to Vulcan. I feel kinda sorry for him. He must've loved you … must love you … a great deal."

"Don't mistake duty for love. And, I am very much alive," she said.

"Ya know, I think he still does love you, or else he wouldn't ask for the wedding challenge."

T'Pol averted her eyes. "I do not care for him in that way. I prefer you."

"Well, on a selfish note, I'm glad you return _my _affections," he said. She kissed a bare shoulder, glad he hadn't worn a shirt to bed.

He snuggled her into the crook of his neck. "So, during arbitration, you choose me and then the judge, or whatever you call it, decides who you should be with?"

"Yes."

"What are the criteria?"

"Our bond would need to be perfect."

"Is it?" he asked.

"According to Vulcan rituals, no," she said. "If it were perfect, I would not be able to hear Koss' voice. And, there is the unification that you have not perfected."

He frowned, "What other conditions?"

"If you were ill, if you had rights to me first or … if I was carrying your child."

"That's it?" he asked with frustration.

"Yes," she said, with sadness leaking out of her voice.

"But, I'm not Vulcan. Why do I have to abide by them?" he asked. "I'm sure this can all be worked out …."

"No," she replied with a sigh.

"You think the arbiter will choose Koss?"

"Yes. It is almost a certainty. He and I would have a perfect bond, given time. And, I was his bond mate long before I was yours. Not to mention there is still prejudice on Vulcan regarding aliens, especially humans. Your race is seen as naïve, crude and impetuous."

Archer frowned. "Can you ask for immunity through Soval? Or, what if you don't show up."

"Soval would be unable to help me. In fact, he may be used against us. He has known me for sometime, and knows Koss was my bond mate long before you."

Archer's frown turned more worried.

"And, if I do not attend, I will be ostracized; I would be unable to return to Vulcan and see my family, the Sal-shana sand dunes, the temples of Shi'kar … and my property … all my belongings … will be forfeited to him."

"That seems so unfair," Archer grunted hoarsely.

"We … could work on one of the criteria," suggested T'Pol.

Archer got a hint as her thoughts swept into his mind. "T'Pol, we have a .9% chance."

"I thought you didn't mind those odds," she mentioned.

His mouth enveloped hers. "Let's see what we can do," he whispered.

Chapter Four 

Archer put on his uniform. It was his first official day back and he didn't want to be late, despite the events in his personal life.

T'Pol was in the shower when a thought came to her from no where, _'I know you are considering forfeiting your right to return to Vulcan and giving your property to me. I don't want that – I want what's best for you.' _

_'I will decide what is best for **me**,' she returned. It bothered her he was communicating with her again._

_'I would be a dutiful spouse and provide for you. I will be able to provide you children.'_

_'I need more,' she returned._

_'What?'_

_'Jonathan,' she thought._

_'I would welcome your adventuresome and passionate nature … and the touching of lips,' he offered. 'I think you know I cherish thee deeply.' _

_'I am married. I have chosen already.'_

_'I've been concerned about you since you reached out to me in Pon Farr. I thought your life had ended. I … grieved for thee, possibly more than I did for my wife.'_

_'Do not communicate with me.'_

_'I know his passion appeals to you. I believe I can show you … lust, if that is your concern.'_

_'I need more than lust, Koss. I need Jonathan. It is not a simple matter of choosing you because you are Vulcan. He is my life mate.'_

_'Lifemate. Yes. It's clear you've made a mistake. I believe Vulcan would gladly nullify your marriage ….'_

_'I sought out Vulcan to honor my marriage. I haven't made a mistake.'_

_'T'Pol, I cherish thee. I always have.'_

She turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel.

Archer noted, "That was quick." He turned back around and continued shaving, leaving one half of his face foamy and one half smooth and clean.

She purred into his ear, "You look handsome."

"Why, thank you," he said in a deeper voice, filled with amusement.

She raised her eyebrow. _She thought to him, 'I want to try again.'_

He smiled, gave her a wink, kissed her forehead and went back to running the blade over his chin. "I can't; I'll be late."

After he placed the razor on the sink and began to run water over his face, she kissed his neck, biting it tenderly hoping to tempt the man. He dragged a towel across his face and noticed she was looking at him like she was ready to pounce on him at any second.

"What's gotten into you? You've been … worked up for about the past week."

She nibbled his lips. "I want your scent on me. I want him to know I care for you, crave you." She dragged him into a passionate kiss, letting her tongue nab his.

As they broke, Archer furrowed his brows and hugged her to him, thinking about the meeting he'd set up at 0800 hours with Trip, "How's that?"

She let her towel drop. "Not enough," she said unzipping his uniform. She projected wanton thoughts to him.

_'Why are you doing this, T'Pol?'_

_'I want him to smell you on me,' she thought letting her hand wander down past his waist._

He groaned and grabbed her hand, "Whoa. I know you feel insecure. Hell, so do I. But, this is getting a little out of hand … so to speak."

"I want to discourage Koss in every possible way. I would think you would want that as well."

"I don't want to lose you, but it seems a little sick to me," he said. "No need to … rub his face in it."

She raised her eyebrow.

"What's going on?" he asked sensing there was something she didn't want to reveal.

He was right. She knew he would be angry if she confessed Koss wanted her and continued to reach out to her mind, promising to care for her and want her.

"He touched my mind again."

"What'd he say?" he questioned, trying to tamp down his jealousy.

"He reasoned why I should be his wife, rather than yours," she said. "He feels … lust toward me."

Archer let his anger fuel his passion. He pushed her gently, but firmly against the wall. "You want my scent on you?" he asked in a dark whisper. He began to push his arms out of his uniform.

"Yes," she panted.

Jealousy, anger, longing, love, protection, desire and fear detoured his brain. Half of those feelings didn't make any sense. One minute, he was worried about his meeting with his chief engineer and the next he and his wife were a frenzy of arms and legs. This normally wouldn't be a problem, but he felt … out of control … unable to stop himself … unwilling to stop himself.

The rational part of his brain, the one he used on the Bridge daily, wanted to talk about it with his wife, determine the root causes and then go try diplomatic channels with Koss. The masculine part of his brain, the husband part, just wanted to beat the hell outta the architect.

So, where did this need to have T'Pol come from? It was so easy to give in. His mouth … as well as other parts of his body … responded before his brain could really piece everything together or utter any words. Before long, he found himself lying next to T'Pol on the bathroom floor, completely spent. Time seemed to vanish and then reappear as he noticed, with pride, her face, neck and lips had flushed a deep green.

A smile wiggled itself onto his lips. "Think he'll smell me on you now?"

"That is a safe assumption."

Chapter Five 

Skipping breakfast, Archer felt weak as he arrived two minutes late for his shift and past his pre-scheduled meeting time. As he strode onto the Bridge, he was greeted by smiles from his crew.

"Nice to see you, sir!" said Hoshi turning from her station.

Reed also turned. "You're looking well …."

Commander Tucker stood up from the captain's chair. "I believe this belongs to you, Cap'n."

Archer smiled and gladly sat down, giving his wobbly legs a brief respite. "Nice to see everyone."

Tucker leaned over. "I didn't see you at breakfast."

"Something came up."

Trip winked, "I bet it did."

Archer couldn't stifle a grin.

Travis arrived on the Bridge, looking like hell. "Sorry I'm late, sir. It's nice to see you," said Travis.

Archer smiled, "It's okay, Ensign. I just arrived myself."

Travis nodded and sat at the pilot's station. Everyone went back to his duties.

Tucker continued, "Most of the repairs to the Vulcan ship are complete. And, I created a report of events from the past two days."

"Thanks, Trip," he nodded toward his Ready Room and called out, "Lt. Reed, you have the Bridge."

The two men stepped into his office and began to talk. The engineer decided against pointing out the captain was walking rather stiffly. Instead, he grinned and followed at his superior officer's heels.

"Have a seat," said Archer, making his way to his desk. His fingers wrapped around the PADD and he began to look over the Engineering reports.

Trip nodded and decided to start with some small talk. "Koss was disappointed he didn't see you or T'Pol this morning," he mentioned.

Archer's mood darkened. "I bet."

Trip slowly sank into his seat and raised his eyebrows. "Anything going on I should know about?"

Archer confided, "I think Koss is going to challenge my marriage with T'Pol."

"Huh? Can he actually challenge your marriage?" asked Trip with confusion.

"It's complicated, but it seems he can take his challenge to a Vulcan judge and let him or her rule who T'Pol should be with."

"What are you going to do?" Trip asked.

"Don't know. I'm not sure what I can do. The judge will rule on my behalf for possibly one of several reasons … all of which are pretty damned unlikely."

"What are they?" he asked.

"My bond with T'Pol must be perfect, I have to become deathly ill or become a father."

Trip's eyes widened and he retorted, "Seems like you're trying real hard to work at the last one."

Archer furrowed his brow and gave a lopsided smile. "Nearly impossible -- .9% chance, Trip. That's slim." He squirmed a little. "Besides, I don't think I'm ready to be a father yet," he lied.

"Jon, you're 41."

Archer guffawed, "42. So?" He waved Trip off. "I convinced Starfleet to allow us to get married and work together. I doubt I'll be able to convince them to allow us to have kids here."

"You could get sick. I bet Dr. Phlox could make you _real _sick."

Archer squinted his eyes. "I don't think I want to become _that _ill. Besides, seems like a pretty lame trick to me."

"Hell, worked once before with T'Pol, didn't it?"

Archer recalled the event where his first officer was hit by a phase pistol, dodging in front of a Vulcan captain after being kidnapped and subsequently rescued.

"I'm not so sure the captain really bought it," the captain confessed.

"Any other ways to get outta this?"

"Not that I know of," Archer admitted.

"We _could_ have a maintenance problem with Koss' doors making it impossible for him to leave. Or, he could have a communications failure," suggested Trip with a wicked smile.

Archer pondered the idea for a moment … only a moment. "No."

"Has he filed the … challenge?" Tucker felt way out of his league on this one, but wanted to be supportive.

"No, but I believe it's only a matter of time. If you've repaired their ship, I'm certain I'll hear from him soon."

Switching gears, Trip said, "Say, I've been meaning to tell you. Travis has been down in the dumps the past few days."

Archer agreed, "I could tell just seeing him today."

"Broke up with Fairbanks."

Archer frowned, "Ah, that's too bad. They made a nice couple."

"Yeah, gets worse. Travis caught her with Rostov," explained Trip.

"Oh, man," said Archer, wincing. "How'd you find out?"

"Let's just say yesterday Rostov showed up for work with a black eye."

Archer shook his head. "What'd you do?"

"Gave Travis the day off rather than toss him in the Brig. I also gave Rostov the day off. I'm leaving it off their records."

Archer nodded, "Good decision. I'll keep an eye on Travis, thanks for the head's up."

"I'm beginning to see why Starfleet has a fraternization regulation after all."

Archer raised his brows, "Wait a minute. What about you and Hoshi?"

"I can see why they have the regulation. Doesn't mean I abide by it," said Trip with a wink. "That girl can …."

"I don't want to hear it," interrupted Archer.

"Cook! Never eaten so well in my life," he scratched his forehead and chided his friend. "Geez, Cap'n, what'd you think I was gonna say?"

"I never know," Archer chuckled.

Tucker went over the details of everything else Archer needed to know about, including engine efficiency, a summary of the downloaded data on the class 9 nebula given to them by Starn, as well as a few other items. As the engineer went over the list, Archer was glad he was 'minding the store.' His third in command was more than competent, which had a way of making a man relax.

After debriefing, Trip said, "Well, I better get to Engineering. Got some more 'repairs' to complete. Say, what if let's just say, Koss had trouble opening his cabin door and …?"

"No, Trip," he said with a scowl. "Don't do anything to Koss' quarters."

"Aye, sir," he said, defeated.

Archer offered, "But, I appreciate the thought." He paused looking more official. "I noted you had some engine repairs you wanted to make."

Trip and Archer filed out of the Ready Room and onto the Bridge.

"Cap'n, on the matter-antimatter injectors," explained Trip. "Got time tomorrow about 0600 … that is if something doesn't come up?"

Archer frowned, "I'll be there."

As Trip called the turbolift, T'Pol stepped out. She bowed her head, "Commander Tucker."

"Hey, T'Pol," he said as they exchanged places. "Good to see you on the Bridge," he smiled.

The doors slid shut and she raised her eyebrows. The crew welcomed her back as she sat at her station.

Hoshi walked up. "It's great to see you back."

Reed sighed at her. "Nice to have you back, Sub commander."

Travis turned around and smiled. "You look terrific."

Archer had to admit, she had a nice green glow to her skin. He beamed thinking it was because of their embrace earlier that morning. Watching her sent a warm tingle down his stomach and settled there. God something about her … he could just watch her all day ….

As she leaned into the scanner, she gathered his thoughts, turned her head over her shoulder and arched an eyebrow. Caught, Archer gave a bemused laugh, sat in his chair, picked up a PADD and reviewed some reports.

'Focus on work,' he told himself. Why was it so damned difficult? He'd been married for three months; maybe the whole thing with Koss was the problem. That's probably why he was feeling so protective.

After shaking his head and staring at his PADD, he lost himself in the nacelles, power couplings, power relays, medical supplies and other information he had to review and approve.

Within a few hours, Hoshi picked up an internal ship transmission. "Captain, Koss wants you and Sub commander T'Pol to meet him in his quarters."

Archer took a deep breath. _'I guess this is it,' he thought. _"Alright. Go ahead and let him know we'll be there shortly."

_'I have no doubt he will confront us,' thought T'Pol to Archer. _

He nodded. "T'Pol, you ready?"

"Of course," she said.

They walked to the turbolift and stepped in. T'Pol turned to him as soon as the door closed. "Please allow me to speak on our behalf. And … can you contain your jealousy?"

He took her hand to his lips. "I'll try."

"It's imperative you do."

The door opened and they walked down the hall, hand-in-hand. As they reached the door, T'Pol could smell a meditation candle burning. She separated their hands and rang the chime.

Koss appeared at the door wearing a long Vulcan robe. "Come in."  
  
All three gathered around a makeshift table in the middle of the cabin and sat down.

Koss began, "Your cook made sl'avanth. I know it is one of your favorites."

"Thank you for your consideration," noted T'Pol.

He bowed his head and sniffed the air. _'His scent is dripping off of you,' he thought. _

_'He is my husband … my life mate. Of course I smell like him. I want to smell like him. I want **him**.' She glanced away. 'I had hoped by having him you would understand you and I can never be together.'_

Dumbfounded, Archer sat viewing the two of them, hearing one side of the conversation. True to his word, he tried not to speak or interfere.

Koss continued aloud, "I met T'Pol when I was a boy. On our second meeting while our parents discussed betrothal matters, T'Pol and I … practiced … a Vulcan embrace. Even at a young age, it stirred me." He looked into her eyes. "She is emotional for a Vulcan, Captain. It's interesting that I have never minded that about her. It's something I … appreciate."

Archer's lips drew into a straight line. T'Pol sighed internally, "This reminiscence is unhealthy. I wish to be your friend, but cannot be anything more than that."

"Remember when your father caught us practicing that embrace," said Koss, focusing on the past.

"I do," she acquiesced.

"He was a stern man; I was … surprised … by his reaction. Do you remember what he told us?" asked Koss.

"He mentioned that we would have plenty of time for that. He saw it as a sign that we were well matched," said T'Pol.

"I thought so as well. Why did you chose Enterprise over me?" he asked. "It is illogical."

"I thought we were ill-matched," she said. "My decision was logical. _Yours _seems illogical. Why would you pursue me after I am married, especially after hearing my decision?"

"If you can still hear my thoughts, it _is_ logical for us to be together," said Koss. "Although we were not … _fully _bonded and you are already given to another, we should not be able to hear each other's minds. This indicates we are better matched than you and Archer."

"You are again deluding yourself," she replied. "I hear Jonathan's thoughts more clearly than yours."

Koss glanced at Archer. "Have you been able to sustain the Kaunsh'es?"

Archer understood this as the union of thought. "Yes."

Koss raised his eyebrow. "I gathered from T'Pol's thoughts you had difficulty with this."

"It's getting easier," he assured, after exchanging a brief look at T'Pol.

Koss began to serve food to his guests. "T'Pol, I suppose you choose Archer over me?" he asked.

She stared at him blankly. "Yes. I would've thought it was apparent, and that I had already stated as much."

"You know I will demand arbitration on this matter. I have the right to K'lan'tat. I came back to collect you after thinking you had perished."

"I am quite alive," she noted.

"You belong to me. I believe I can make your life on Vulcan comfortable."

"I _belong_ to no one; I give myself to Jonathan."

"He is a human. You deserve someone who can complete your bond."

"I felt complete, until you interfered. And the fact that he is human is perhaps one of the reasons _why_ I chose him. He … stirs me."

"Emotion," he said.

"We have them as well," she countered. _'You have passion for me.'_

"I believe you would be better off with me," he noted, adamantly. He was determined that T'Pol had acted impulsively; she was known to do that from time to time. And that duty and honor bound her to a relationship.

"You call on ancient rituals," she countered.

"Nevertheless, will you abide by this ritual?"

She gave a near frown and eyed Archer. She gave a small sigh. "I'd hoped I could reason with you. I would like to think about it."

"I have already initiated the challenge; I filed the request already. Until then, you should abide by the rules. Do you know them?" he asked.

Archer was starting to feel a little edgy. He'd managed to keep quiet and put a lid on his envy, but this was the limit. "Rules?" he demanded.

"She is considered married to both of us and neither of us," said Koss.

"What?" asked Archer.

"She is … in a way … considered my wife. And, I have equal access to her. She must spend the same amount of time with me that she spends with you."

Archer got the message and that message pissed him off. "Stay the hell away from her!"

"Jonathan, please," she said.

Archer glared at his wife with frustration and then shot that glower over to Koss. "Well, I don't give a damn about your traditions and ancient rituals. T'Pol is my wife! This equal access …."

T'Pol touched Archer's arm to calm him. _'Jonathan, we discussed this in the turbolift. Please allow me to talk on my own behalf,' she thought._

_'It isn't just about you, T'Pol. Sounds like this guy **wants **you. When he says equal access, I don't think he means asking you to make him some tea."_

'Do not let your emotions interfere with your reasoning. I will not become ensnared in a precarious situation.'

Koss heard T'Pol's side of the conversation of thought. He rested his chin on his two index fingers that formed a temple.

T'Pol glanced over at Koss, noticing he was somewhat amused by their quarrel.

'I don't like this,' thought Archer

'It is not your decision,' she returned.

'You must be pretty happy with this arrangement!'

'I am not happy. Please, Koss can hear my side of this conversation. If you could keep control ….'

'I'm not just going to stand around and let him do this to us!'

'If you continue to act emotionally, I will not be able to control mine,' thought T'Pol, feeling mad and then clearing the thought from her mind.

Archer's face reddened as he felt fury eat away at his self-control. 'Too emotional, huh?! Well, maybe you **should've** married a Vulcan! I guess this is your big chance.'

T'Pol's widened her eyes as he continued.

'Although you seemed to be begging for my emotions this morning, or don't you remember?!'

"Koss and I will continue this conversation alone," T'Pol said aloud, flustered and wanting her thoughts with her husband to come to an end. Nothing could be gained, and undoubtedly Jonathan was too angry to let her handle the affair. Strange that she felt relatively calm, despite his last attack.

Jon jerked his head back and stared on. "What the hell?"

Koss spoke, "If that is what you wish, T'Pol. Captain?" The taller Vulcan stood up as if to escort Archer to the door.

Jon's mouth dropped, waiting for T'Pol to change her mind. Instead she stared into space, avoiding his gaze and quieting her thoughts. After Archer realized she wasn't bluffing, he glared at her and stormed out.

As the door slid shut, Koss continued. "He has a volatile and violent nature. Are you certain you choose him?" he asked.

T'Pol furrowed her brows. "He is not usually prone to emotional outbursts. But, I would gather he does not understand. And frankly, neither do I."

Koss ignored the comment. "An arbitrator will contact us tomorrow morning at roughly 10 a.m. What do you plan to do?"

"I choose to stay in my own quarters tonight, away from both of you."

"I do not think Archer will like it."

"I think you are correct," she said.

"It is difficult to understand why you would choose a lesser species over me," said Koss.

"They are not … lesser. Merely different," she replied.

"Sounds like affection. Another emotion," said Koss.

"If I am so emotional and illogical, why do you challenge my marriage?" she asked. "Why do you want me?"

That got his attention. Koss stared off into space. "Although it is illogical, I have been unable to … remove you from my thoughts. After you called to me, I found my blood … stirred."

"Stirred?" she asked. She was uncertain she had triggered a response in him. "But, you'd been bonded with your life mate?"

"I do not understand it. Perhaps we were not together long enough." He leaned in closer to her. "And, yes, I am stirred. What would you have me say? Although I have not re-entered my cycle I have … found my blood boiling for you."

"I did not realize I had caused this reaction."

Koss shook his head. "It is true nonetheless. I …" he touched her chin, "am having difficulty meditating since you called to me. These few months have been … difficult."

She turned her head, moving her chin from his hand.

"I did not burn for you until I came aboard the vessel and saw you," he whispered. "Perhaps it is the constant bombardment of emotions. Perhaps it is that I have always found you … aesthetically pleasing. Perhaps it is the _lust_ you feel. And you do feel it."

"For my husband, yes." After watching his eyes grow shadowy, she stood and headed for the door.

"I believe we should end this conversation," she mentioned.

"Are you going back to Archer?" he asked with a tinge of jealousy leaking out of his voice. She raised an eyebrow at his obvious emotion. Two fingers unexpectedly touched hers in gentle strokes.

"Tell me you feel nothing when I do this," he whispered.

She felt a jolt of electricity – a guilty pleasure. Perhaps Jonathan's physiology was not as conducive to electricity, or perhaps Vulcans had more practice. All she knew was after Koss' fingers met hers, she gasped internally, but did not flinch externally. Her mind had already revealed itself to Koss and Jon. She took her hand away quickly and tried to place a mental wall between her and her husband and the Vulcan in front of her.

"You took me by surprise," she commented.

"I think the way you feel about what I did was more than … surprise. I felt … arousal. Perhaps I _can _stir you."

"I should go," she claimed.

"Remember the name I used for you when we were children … in case our parents found our correspondence?" he asked.

"Rat is the Earth term," she said.

He raised his eyebrow. "Mouse would be more appropriate. You were … small and vulnerable." He looked over her. "When I first met you, you were gangly and awkward. Over the years I saw you develop and mature into a graceful woman. T'Pol, it is illogical to want, but I do. I want you."

His fingers reached out to hers again, as his hot breath touched her ear. "I have more strength. I understand our ways – our rites, rituals and traditions. You will not be disappointed."

"I will not change my mind," she countered, moving away and out the door.

Chapter Six 

Archer was furious. He mumbled to himself all the way back to his cabin, stomping his feet toward his quarters. As he entered the room, he looked at his wedding ring and had the urge to hurl it at the wall. Vulcans seemed to know nothing about the honor and sanctity of marriage. He had no say in all the ridiculous Vulcan rituals; hell, they wouldn't even listen to him! Humans were zilch; his customs didn't matter one iota. Figures.

'Why did we agree to help the vessel?' asked Archer, tingling with irritation. Trip had given him an out, but he'd refused to take it. Ah, hindsight.

Archer paced around the room and decided to cool down. He trusted his wife. Just as he'd influenced himself that his wife would do what was best for them, Archer felt something in the back of his mind; he felt desire. It was coming from T'Pol.

Koss' hands were sharp with electricity, stroking her fingers. Archer could feel T'Pol's pulse quicken and her heartbeat race, like this morning when they were together. A tiny gasp shook her internally at the sensation. One single thought loomed in her mind at the Vulcan embrace, "Yes."

**_That was it!_**

The idea that another man could make her feel lust sent his imagination and male ego into overdrive. Suddenly his pacing became frantic. His hands clenched and unclenched as he fought the urge to punch a hole in the wall. No, he wanted to punch a hole in Koss. Under no circumstances, did Archer want his wife to feel a smidgen of excitement with that Vulcan. Ever!

Everything after that moment he could sense between his wife and Koss was a blur.

Jealousy overtook him -- his heart, stomach and mind. Who could blame him? T'Pol was like water in the desert – necessary to his survival. Sensing another man's hands on her and how it felt … and that it felt good … was too much. This was something he just couldn't deal with and didn't want to.

When T'Pol entered their cabin, pausing at the door, she could tell he was upset … she was able to decipher his emotions.

"Jonathan, I cannot speak with you very long. According to the challenge …," she began, stepping cautiously into the room.

"I don't want to talk to you," he said with venom as the door slipped shut.

She hesitated and then continued; after all, she had expected this reaction. "I need to explain the custom you must …."

"I said … I don't want to talk to you," he spat, restraining his anger.

Perhaps she had not expected this. "Let me explain."

"Get out," he growled calmly, but with antagonism.

She breathed deeply and continued, "It is part of the agreement. I share my time equally between you and Koss. Please listen when I say …."

"I said … get out!" he yelled.

Despite her husband's emotional response, she wanted to be there with him and nervously stepped toward him. "Until a verdict has been reached, I will stay in my old cabin. It has not been reassigned yet."

He stood up and warned her, invading her personal space. "Did you hear what I said?! I said – leave me the hell alone! I don't want to hear you or see you."

She continued, "I must share my time with both of you. And, what I do with one, I must do with the other. If you kiss me, I must return the favor to him."

A tumult of anger exploded from the inside, rippling through him like a hurricane in an ocean. He barely felt in control of his emotions and couldn't stop them from sweeping through the room and nearly blowing her over.

He burst.

"I didn't agree to this! You didn't consult me! What the hell were you thinking … are you thinking! We're a couple, T'Pol. You and me. But, when I tried to speak up for myself, you had the nerve to …."

"Jonathan," began T'Pol.

He stopped in his tracks and with particular nastiness in his voice, he said, "Oh, don't even …. Admit it, he turned you on."

Shocked, her lips split apart.

"I felt it, T'Pol. I _felt_ your arousal! So, when I say leave me alone, I mean – _leave me alone_!!" he yelled – his voice sending Porthos running under the bed.

"You're jealous," she noted.

"YES!"

"There's no reason to be."

He snorted.

"Jonathan," she said softly.

She knew how to get to him, but he was still pissed. "Your ex-boyfriend … bond mate … whatever … comes waltzing back into your life, is able to communicate with you in a way that is intimate, and demands to have you back. And you wanted to kiss him! Hell yeah I'm jealous!!"

"I did not want to kiss him. I care for you," she responded.

He growled and put his head into his hands. This was pretty damned confusing. All of it.

'I'm sorry my thoughts revealed themselves to you. I did nothing more. You can search my mind.'

Having her open up her mind to him made him feel better, if not a little ashamed at himself. She had no idea where the arousal came from and seemed almost surprised by it. In fact, after she was amazed she had a twinge of anger, but immediately felt that leave and be replaced with serenity.

Her husband was still a little worked up, searching his wife's eyes, trying to figure out what the hell was going on with both of them. T'Pol's emotions felt like tiny almost unnoticeable shockwaves that shimmied and them stopped. His feelings were jarring and the magnitude catastrophic.

A wave of peace passed over him and he sighed deeply. Archer put his arm around her shoulder, and hugged her to him. "I'm sorry."

"I am conflicted about honoring this," she whispered into his uniform. "But, I feel I have no choice."

"There are _always_ choices."

"Everything I own would be his – my mother's tapestries, ancient scrolls that have been in my family almost since the time of Surak and my scientific equipment. I would be unable to return to Vulcan and see my cousins," she reminded him.

"I know it must be difficult, but I thought I was your home. I thought this is … was … is … your home. I just don't want you to make a decision about us without my input."

"The decision is and was _mine_ to make," she noted, becoming agitated.

"But, this affects us – you and me. That means we make that decision _together_."

She shook her head. "I don't concur. Could you agree never to return to Earth? Could you give away your mother's collection of hardcover books – including the poetry she read to you as a boy? Would you be able to give your apartment away to your government? A picture of your father and you camping? The models you built as a boy? Would it be so easy to give all of that away? Especially to a woman you didn't love?"

Archer bit his lip. He still disagreed about the decision, but didn't want to fight with her. All he wanted to do was figure out how to be with her. He stroked her cheek, looking into her eyes and lowered his head for a small kiss.

"I can't," she replied, stepping away. "If you do so, I would also need to reciprocate the gesture with Koss. What I do with you, I must do with him."

He felt a lump in his throat forming.

Sadly, she explained, "I must do further research, it's an older custom. I am concerned that Koss admitted to me that when I went through Pon Farr, he was … moved."

With confusion Archer asked, "Moved?"

"You're right; he does … want me."

"I thought Vulcans were emotionless?"

Chiding him she said, "Aisha, I have lust for you and show you various emotions from time-to-time. Being Vulcan is about supressing emotions, or at least trying to. And, although that is the goal, Vulcans are not always successful."

Archer took her hands in his, "I don't like him touching you, or thinking about you."

"I don't either."

"But … you're … attracted to him?" he wasn't sure why he was asking. Emotion was tugging at him, warping his self-image and riddling him with insecurity – something he rarely felt.

She raised an eyebrow, hesitating.

"Afraid to tell me?" he challenged.

Unwittingly, she said, "I think he is handsome. He is mentally stimulating. When our fingers touch, I feel … something akin to electricity. He is strong and … I would also say for a Vulcan he has … passion. He is rebellious, intriguing and somewhat unpredictable."

She walked around Archer, "We have known each other's minds … in a way … for more than fifty years. Although we have only seen each other four, perhaps five times, his thoughts have been in the back of my mind most of my life. When I left for Earth, his thoughts were gone. If he had come first when I was in Pon Farr, when I called to him … I would have given in to him."

Archer squinted, trying to accept the information she'd given him.

"Although I am … pleased … Koss did not answer my call. The fact that he has been stirred by my request during Pon Farr, touches me. He does care deeply for me. The fact he has traveled great distances to collect my body on behalf of my family makes me feel … gratitude and something akin to sadness."

Jon exhaled deeply and cleared his throat. All right. She'd given him a lot more than 'Yes, I suppose he's attractive, but not as handsome as you.' That's what he really wanted, just a little reassurance, but she didn't deliver. And, that hurt him.

"Would you like to know how I feel about you?" she asked.

He shook his head, unable to croak out any words.

"You are sensual, graceful, exciting, and bold. You are also mentally challenging. You are emotionally stimulating. You are handsome and … virile. You are passionate … for a human … much more than a Vulcan," she said walking up and caressing his face. "Noble, courageous, sensitive, genuine, intelligent, charming. When I watch you do something as mundane as walk across the room, I feel … desire. You have a smile that stirs my emotions, and a twinkle in your eye that … amuses me. Your voice is sweet, especially when you sing in the shower." She had many other things to say, but needed to drive one point home, "Listen to me. You are my world. You and you alone are my life mate, my husband. I am relieved you came to me during Pon Farr. I have wanted you for some time, perhaps a year, maybe longer. You complete me in a way no other, ever, will be able to. You are my soul mate. You are able to touch me like no other. Do I make myself clear?"

That managed to really choke him up – embarrassingly so. The captain was not a man to cry or feel sentiment so deeply. Now? Tears were barely kept at bay, leaving his eyes glassy.

"Are you all right?" she asked.

"Yes," he whispered. "I may be acting irrationally and like a jealous husband, but that's what I am … your husband. In my culture, the very thing Koss has invoked is revolting. People on my planet get divorced for less."

"Are you suggesting you wish to end our marriage?"

"No."

"Then, what do you want?"

"I want you to end this," he said sitting down.

"You want me to revoke my property to him and deny ever going back to Vulcan?"

"No. I just … I can't share you with him," he said, gazing into her eyes. "But … I guess it is your decision."

"I wish I didn't have to share my time with him as well. It seems there's no easy solution."

"I guess not," he agreed.

Archer shifted his eyes for a moment and glanced at the clock. "I'm fifteen minutes late already," he said with exasperation. "How soon do you think we can get arbitration?"

"Koss indicated tomorrow morning."

"He doesn't waste any time."

"No, he doesn't," she replied.

"Do you think you can continue to … prevent him from …?" asked Archer with a husky voice.

"I believe so, yes. Vulcans are not like humans. He may want me, but he will most likely not give in."

He let that insult about humans slide. Instead he counted on the impossible … after all, he was desperate. "Maybe one of the conditions has already been met, unbeknownst to us?" His hand wandered over her stomach and rubbed it gently. Sheepishly, his eyes met hers.

"Doubtful," she expressed. The possibility was too remote.

His eyes pleaded with her for a glimmer of hope. "You never know."

"I'll see Dr. Phlox right away."

"Let me know as soon as you find out."

She gave a sympathetic nod and walked out.

Archer collected himself and mused about the situation, specifically Koss. Under different circumstances, he may've considered the man a friend. But, not now. What bothered him was -- Vulcans couldn't love. So, why would Koss be so interested in her? Actually, that wasn't true. Archer felt something akin to love from T'Pol, otherwise the relationship would never have worked. They veiled the emotion in "cherishing" and "caring," but the feel, the actual emotion, seemed like love. The confession T'Pol just made definitely was; and that reassured him.

It was sad that maybe Koss had those feelings for T'Pol, but she would never return them. Well, sad for Koss, but lucky for him. He took a deep breath, stuffed his insecurity down and headed off to the Bridge.

Chapter Seven 

The day went by quickly and Archer headed to his empty cabin at the normal time. Unfortunately for the two of them, Phlox was busy all day or all evening. The physician was called away for one emergency after another. The test only took an hour to complete, but he didn't have enough free time to devote to even that one simple task. And Archer was definitely anxious to find out, even if he doubted it would be good news.

Since he couldn't see his wife, Jon decided to use his time to read Vulcan law. He found very little in the databases about the wedding challenge, but had confirmed the criteria. There were a few cases where some poor bastards had to go through with it. Somehow the writing was unemotional, but he suspected it was a nightmare. Reading Vulcan was incredibly dry, drier than reading Reed's very precise armory reports. There were cases where Vulcans who were seemingly in love were split apart and forced to marry someone against their wishes. _Logical._

'Stupid,' corrected Jon.

Having studied for hours, and feeling sleepy – at only 2000 hours – he decided to make a quick call to his wife before getting a little extra shuteye. They chatted briefly about what they'd learned studying the Vulcan texts. T'Pol suggested they end the communication so she could get back to pouring over more information.

"Okay," said Archer, lightly stroking the comm's button.

"Good night," she said.

"I love you," he whispered.

"I cherish thee, too."

He sighed, "You know, it's empty without you here."

"I miss you, too."

"Yeah, I miss you," he said boyishly.

"I'll talk with you soon."

"I noticed you forgot your hairbrush. Want me to send it over?" he asked.

"I'm fine."

"Okay, sweetheart. Gonna think about me while you meditate?"

"Jonathan?"

"Yes?"

"I'll talk with you tomorrow morning," she said with confusion.

"You end the communication first."

"Very well."

"T'Pol?"

"Yes?" she said, letting irritation leak into her voice just a tad.

Archer professed, "I love you from the tiny points of your cute little ears to your very suckable pinky toes."

"Are you intoxicated?" she asked.

Funny, he did feel a little strange. "No, just … I don't know. "

"Good night, Jonathan. I cherish thee," she whispered, ending the call.

He stared at the comm for a second. _Archer chided himself, 'What's wrong with me?' _

His head hit the pillow as he stared at the ceiling for a second, wondering about the mushiness overtaking him. He closed his eyes just for a moment to ponder why he felt so emotional, and then he promptly began to snore. So, without brushing his teeth, washing his face or even changing, he fell asleep on top of the covers.

Before his alarm went off, he woke up to a queasiness overpowering him. His feet hit the carpet and he ran with a burst of speed into the bathroom, emptying his stomach over and over and over. After purging his stomach completely, he stood up. Instead of regaining his faculties, he knees gave way and his face rushed to meet the ground. He slipped into unconsciousness.

Chapter Eight 

"I have no idea what's wrong with him," said Phlox looking over his sleeping captain. The guy had a nasty bruise on his forehead – probably where his head met the commode. "I've ruled out just about everything I can think of."

T'Pol looked at her husband with concern. He'd been acting strangely all week. His last via the comm was rather bizarre.

'Is this a ruse? No, he wouldn't do something that foolish,' she noted. 'Would he?'

Phlox tapped his chin. "I'll run a few more tests. Well … no sense in having you stay here; I'll call you when I have more information."

She claimed, "I wish to stay here for a while longer. If that is permissible."

Phlox smiled, "Absolutely." He hummed to himself and began walking around. "Oh, before you walked in, I began running the test you asked me to complete, Sub commander," said Phlox. "You should find out very shortly."

She nodded. "The chances of conceiving are remote at best. It was unrealistic to hope for that."

"Just because it's unrealistic, doesn't mean you don't want it to happen. You're newly weds. You have plenty of time."

She didn't respond.

"Sub commander?"

She gave a very small sigh, "It would have been … fortuitous if I was pregnant now."

Phlox jerked his head back, "Why is that?"

"It is a family matter."

"Oh," said Phlox. "Well, if you feel like opening up …."

T'Pol weighed the idea of telling him and decided it might actually help. "Koss is challenging my marriage to the captain."

Phlox raised his eyebrows trying to look surprised, "Can he do that?"

T'Pol folded her arms across her chest. "Yes, he can."

"Seems silly," said Phlox placing samples of red and green blood in a centrifuge.

"Silly? Perhaps to you, but during the time of Surak, when Vulcans were barbarians, Vulcan women were kidnapped from their husbands. This was a way to determine who would be the best and most logical bond mate."

"Why don't Vulcans use the same process for mating?" asked Phlox.

"Mating is somewhat different. Our blood boils. Our minds are unclear. With the wedding challenge, our minds are mostly clear and thoughtful. Engaging in combat would be illogical."

"It already seems illogical to me. Vulcans aren't barbarians any longer."

"And your culture would suggest I marry both?" she asked.

Phlox smiled, "It is rather convenient." He paused. "Seems like both men are dissimilar enough to meet many needs … and they have some similar qualities. You _would _be able to have children with Koss. And Captain Archer seems like an excellent match, more satisfying to you."

"Are you suggesting Koss is more suitable to be my husband than Jonathan?"

Phlox smiled, "Of course not. After all, I like to think I had a hand in putting you and the captain together."

Her eyebrow climbed against her forehead. "Really?"

Phlox pulled the blood samples from the centrifuge and began preparing them for the microscope.

"Tell, me, Doctor. Did Captain Archer already see you about this issue? Did you decide to … provide him with a serious illness?"

Phlox dropped a slide. "Heavens, no."

"It is rather … convenient that he has contracted an illness the night before arbitration."

"Rather unfortunate I would say," he added.

"His illness may swing the ruling in our favor."

"Hmmm …. Is that so?" asked Phlox.

She stood and clasped her hands behind her back. "Can he be cured of this illness you've given him?"

"Sub commander, I didn't give him an illness."

"I hope not; providing one would be a foolish plan. And, something I would think my husband put you up to."

"I can't believe you think I would actually _give _an illness to one of my patients."

"Perhaps I am mistaken," she said. Phlox seemed to smile. "But, I doubt it."

Phlox frowned at the accusation and prepared an enzyme. He placed elements of her blood it in. "I'll call you if I find out anything with your test or your husband. Or yourself."

"Please do not let him suffer too long," she said before walking out.

Phlox shook his head.

Chapter Eleven 

T'Pol walked back to her quarters. Did her husband purposefully contract some illness? Her cheeks became dark as she remembered waking up in Sickbay after receiving a phase pistol burn; the Vulcan captain seemed convinced that she couldn't return to his ship.

She reflected on that matter. "He was able to deceive the Vulcan captain," she noted. "Was that Vulcan captain actually fooled?" She raised her eyebrow and decided to reflect on it further.

The doorbell chimed. T'Pol knew it was Koss.

"It is 1000 hours," he noted. He glanced around, "Where is Archer?"

"In Sickbay."

"What is wrong with him?" he asked.

"Unknown. Dr. Phlox is working to determine that now."

"Seems rather … convenient he becomes ill now," stated Koss.

"Humans are prone to more disease than us. It is not … unlikely."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you requesting that I postpone the arbitration? I would think it would be best to conclude this matter."

"I've come to a decision, since it seems you are unwilling to bend. I will allow my marriage to Jonathan to become null and void in the eyes of Vulcan. My property is yours."

Koss furrowed his brow. "You can't mean this."

"I do."

"T'Pol, _that _is an illogical decision."

"I say again – I will not leave him," she said. "When he and I became involved, I believed I would be unable to return home anyway. I should not have let this drag on. I was … eager … to have Vulcan continue to recognize our union. My 'eagerness' was misguided. He is ultimately more important to me than my personal belongings. It pains me I will be unable to see Vulcan or family members, but … so be it."

He felt his mind was having difficulty focusing on her words. Why was having her so important? Maybe it was because she had denied him, turned him away? No, he found her intriguing; he always had. As a boy he'd felt almost joyful seeing her, knowing she would be his life mate. She'd always been beautiful, curious and intelligent. Her passion was the thing he valued and treasured most. When she walked down the street, even in her Vulcan robes, he had the sense she was flaunting her sex. When she debated, her voice trembled and quivered as if winning was important. He'd also seen her cry – when her mother perished. She was one of the most tender Vulcans he had ever met, and he couldn't help but want to be near her. She was like standing next to the sun – scalding, warm, inviting and powerful. He wanted that. He wanted her – no matter how illogical.

"Can Archer make your blood boil?" He drew her to him, wanting to put his mouth on hers – the idea seemed fixated in his brain ever since he'd discovered the humans' embrace. His mouth watered at the thought.

"Yes, he _alone _stirs me," she said easily, breaking contact with him.

"Our joining of the hands; you enjoyed that."

"I enjoy his embrace more."

"The bond of unity," he said. "I could fulfill that with you."

"That is not ultimately what is most important to me," she said.

He whispered into her ear, "We have much in common. Your family accepts me," he retorted, pleading with his eyes.

"Perhaps too much in common," she indicated. "Koss, you know my … feelings toward you."

He whispered, "We belong together." He touched her cheek. "You let me touch your fingers … you let me touch you when we were young, much more than our parents realized. Do you remember?"

_T'Pol was curious about the Vulcan male body – how it worked, what it looked like. A scientific textbook was hardly adequate – she wanted to feel it and see it. During one of the visits Koss and his family made when she was in her 40s, she took him on a tour of her house. She led him into her bedroom and closed the door. He was perspiring lightly, which gave her the idea. _

"You might be cooler without your clothing," she offered.

He hesitated for a moment, as she chided, "Embarrassment is an emotion."

Koss reluctantly disrobed, wrapping his fingers around his clasp and letting the dark material fall to the floor. He was left in a shimmering purple tunic that flowed like a gown.

"Are you still warm?" she asked, encouraging him to continue disrobing.

Nakedness was not something that bothered Vulcans – neither positively nor negatively. It was simply there. In fact, it was illogical to deny there was nakedness. He pulled the material from his long, lean body and let her eyes peruse him. It seemed harmless, undoubtedly she'd seen a male body before in texts.

"May I?" asked T'Pol holding her hand near his body to glide her fingers over it.

"Of course," he replied. He had never let a woman touch him; he hadn't wanted to. Her request seemed serenely delivered and she would one day be his spouse. Why not allow her to touch him?

T'Pol's fingers splayed over his chest as she examined it in detail, feeling the muscles and skin with the eagerness of a scientist. Her fingers wound around his arms, back and legs. His form was comely – not muscular nor without muscles.

_"You are still sweating," she commented._

Her touch had caused him to perspire again. Something about her hands dancing over his body stirred him. His face flushed slightly as he barely asked, "And, are you warm?"

_"Slightly," she responded. Perhaps he was also interested in mapping out the female body personally. She let her robe slither to the ground and slipped out of the gown underneath it._

_Watching her nude body caused more than a slight reaction from him. He … felt … lust. The Kolinahr – the ritual he had participated in as a boy, and once again ten years ago, taught that self-control and logic were the foundations of Vulcan beliefs. And yet, viewing her body forced urges to squirm to the surface … urges he did not want to control._

_His voice trembled slightly with inexperience. "Would you like to try the embrace that I showed you the last time I saw you?"_

_She raised her fingers and allowed his to touch hers. His breath failed him; her fingers created electricity. The feeling was fascinating to her, and passionate and wanton to him._

_"Would you mind if I touched you, T'Pol?" he asked, his other hand close to her shoulder._

_"No," she said, intrigued at the idea._

_Two fingers skimmed down her neck and drifted toward her stomach._

_"How does this feel to you?" he whispered._

_"Enjoyable," she commented, blandly, noticing he shivered slightly. _

She raised an eyebrow. His nervous fingers wandered to her breast and he released a small pant. Confusion knitted on her brow, wondering what had elicited that response. Noticing she hadn't stopped him, he decided to explore more of her. Something primitive – ancient – rumbled inside of him.

_He whispered darkly, "You can touch more of me, if you want. I believe I would find it pleasurable."_

_She pondered the idea, but decided it was best to close this experiment. There would be other times. Undoubtedly she'd see him again … possibly in another ten years. _

"It's not necessary, but thank you," she announced.

_He swallowed deeply. "I have not experienced this emotion before."_

_She stepped into her gown and robe. "What is it?"_

_"A burning feeling – lust perhaps?" he asked._

_"I have not experienced that yet. What does it feel like?"_

_ "It feels … overpowering. Would you like me to show you? I might be able to cause you to feel it?"_

_"Perhaps next time."_

_"Mouse, I … enjoyed that feeling," he admitted. "It felt good." He paused, debating whether he should tell her what was on his mind. "Are you looking forward to Pon Farr?"_

_"No. Why would I look forward to insanity?" she asked._

_"I don't know. But, I … look forward to it. I believe it would be highly satisfying with you." He gathered his clothes and shimmied into his gown, noting T'Pol was silent. "Did I embarrass you?"_

_"Of course not," she replied. "I hope when we are life mates that we will cherish each other as your parents do."_

_"I hope so as well," he replied, twirling his fingers in her hair, unexpectedly. "I am pleased at my match. My parents have chosen well."_

_T'Pol remained silent. Her own parents were ill matched, choosing to, for the most part, remain separate. She wanted a life where she would feel cherished and comforted. Koss was her selected spouse. However, she'd never felt anything other than friendship for him. Perhaps that would change over time. Maybe, he would stir lust within her and her body would tremble at his touch._

_"Do you think lust is the basis of a successful bonding?" she asked._

_"Seems duty, honor, respect, these are things Vulcans hold dear. But, I know my father is stirred by my mother, even after 80 years of marriage. I would like to feel that. Do you think it's important?"_

_"Not necessarily."_

_He commented darkly, "I would like you to feel lust for me. I find it intriguing when you are stirred by emotion. And, I would like you to enjoy my Pon Farr as well. I want it to be highly satisfying to both of us. My parents have indicated the madness is not without … pleasure."_

_"Fascinating," she commented._

_"Friendship is important as well. And I gather by your response you are not moved for me as I am for you."_

"Your assessment is correct," she agreed.

"We have time still," he noted.

The memory came grinding to a halt; even years later she found the conversation upsetting. As they two had touched each other, she had moved him, stirred him … and he hoped one day he would stir her. Unfortunately for him, it would never come to pass. Their finger stroke, albeit brief, was the strongest she'd ever felt for the man, but wasn't as deep as the one with Jonathan.

Sadness leaked from her voice, "Would you want a life mate, who always thinks of another? Jonathan will always be foremost in my thoughts."

"He does not deserve your caring," said Koss with a trace of anger in his voice.

"That is not for you to decide," she said. "And, you know nothing of our relationship together. He deserves more than what I can give him. He has saved my life countless times and turned his back on his own people to be with me. He cares for me with reckless abandon."

"I will always hear your voice," he said with sadness.

"I do not believe that to be the case. Our thoughts became clear to each only after you were close, distance-wise, to Enterprise. I did not hear your voice before."

"It seems you will counter everything I say," he said.

"Did you hear my voice before two days ago?" she asked.

"I could feel you burning in Pon Farr. I could hear your thoughts then. I felt honored you called to me," he said. She had projected wanton thoughts to him, urging him to her. The heat she'd radiated during that time was exhilarating -- her nakedness and passion. These were the things he'd wanted for all these years. The words she'd used to evoke a response in him were overwhelming and sumptuous. With his deceased wife, she'd met his needs in Pon Farr, but afterward, he was never _moved_.

And it was odd that T'Pol alone could spark the flame of lust.

"I could feel your thoughts during your Pon Farr," she said. "Although I was not stirred for you."

"I … wish I had been here to help with your mating. I believe you would now be my life mate," he said, wanting to touch her hair.

"There will be another for you," she said.

"I do not know. Even now, _even _hearing your thoughts about Archer, you stir me," he said. Somehow she seemed almost as wanton as in Pon Farr, but with the added control. He wondered if Archer could always move her thus.

Her eyes continued to stare at him, unblinking.

"Archer is a man who seemingly has … what humans call luck," he said, letting his eyes dance over her. T'Pol pitied him … and the emotion felt humiliating.

She replied, "I believe he knows that."

"After I cancel arbitration, perhaps we can be friends?" he said.

"Cancel arbitration?" she asked to clarify his thoughts.

"There is a certain logic in something you said. I would not want my wife to … crave another and pity me."

"Koss …" she began. "It is good of you to do this. Thank you. I would also like to be friends with you. I've always wanted that."

"Too bad only that," he replied, stroking her cheek. With that small gesture, he turned and headed out the door.

T'Pol felt relief. She decided to go back to Sickbay to let Phlox know he could cure her husband right away.

Chapter Twelve 

As she reached Sickbay, Archer wasn't in his bed. After she looked around, he walked out of the bathroom, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Phlox gave him a series of hypospray injections, which eventually calmed him.

The doctor stepped back with satisfaction. "Excellent."

"The challenge has ended. Koss is currently withdrawing from arbitration," T'Pol announced, mostly to her husband.

"Ah, that's good news," replied Phlox.

"God, that's a relief," Archer replied, feeling a bit queasy still. He wanted to drag his wife into an embrace, but was wary to make any sudden moves. "What happened?"

"He retracted his challenge."

Archer crawled into bed carefully. "That mean you get to move back in with me?" he asked.

"Yes, but first, perhaps Dr. Phlox can give you the antidote now … since he made you ill," suggested T'Pol.

"Huh?" asked Archer.

Phlox crossed his arms across his body. "Well, I doubt there is one for what he's contracted."

T'Pol asked, "What has he contracted?"

"A pregnant wife."

"I beg your pardon?" she asked, as Archer furrowed his brows – both utterly stunned.

Phlox smiled creepily, "T'Pol, you're pregnant. It seems you are approximately three months into your gestation. I can give you a date, which may or … may not … surprise you. I believe you conceived the child on your wedding night."

More stunned, Archer's jaw unhinged. With a .9% chance, both had decided birth control was unnecessary. She'd been pregnant for three months?!

T'Pol asked, "I am with child?" She reached behind her for a chair and slowly sank into it.

"Congratulations!" cheered Phlox.

"There must be some error. The possibility that I would be able to conceive is remote. Extremely remote."

"We're going to have a baby," mumbled Archer to himself. He blinked away a few more tears of joy, "God, I can't believe it. I'm going to be a father!" Unsteady fingers found her shoulder as he gripped it much harder than he'd intended; he couldn't help dragging her into an embrace. __

"I ran the pregnancy test and came up with the results … and double checked them. And, I noticed Captain Archer exhibiting signs associated with pregnancy – unusual emotional behavior, morning sickness, fainting …. Could it possibly be your … bond?"

"Yes," she whispered.

On Vulcan, it was customary for both parents to feel the affects of pregnancy – biologically, it gave the male a vested interest in the offspring. This meant that the entity … child … growing inside of her had already created a bond with its father. As she sorted through the last few days, she'd noticed her increased sexual appetite for the man. She also noticed she herself had felt more emotional. Perhaps rather than setting those feelings to the side, she'd been … passing them to her husband, amplifying his already apparent connection.

This irony was not lost on her. In fact, she and Archer had formed a perfect bond by its very definition. Unification indicated one spouse would feel exactly what the other did; her husband was able to do so easily. If they had gone to arbitration, they easily would've won.

What was possibly more ironic was that perhaps the sole reason she was able to hear Koss' voice was due to her child; her child's Vulcan telepathy may have added to her own. And so, if she wasn't pregnant, she may never have been able to discern Koss' thoughts. Although, she couldn't be certain … even if her instincts (what Jonathan referred to as "gut") told her it was true.

Phlox smiled, "I've haven't had a chance to study up on Vulcan gestation periods, but I believe it's one year and three months? I don't know how the human DNA will affect your child. But, I would guess your baby would be born anywhere from …."

She interrupted, still unable to fathom the news. "This is difficult to believe."

"But, it's true nonetheless. I think you and Captain Archer will make fine parents."

Archer embraced her again, placing his mouth on hers and musing, _"We're parents._"

"Aisha, parents?" thought T'Pol perplexed.

_Archer's lips sloped up. "Isn't it amazing?"_

_"Unbelievable."_

The captain was utterly overwhelmed – the situation with Koss was resolved, he'd found out mind-blowing news. His baby. Their baby. Their child. Half-Vulcan, half-human … they'd made something beautiful … something miraculous. He was going to be a father!

"I don't want to frighten you, but conception might be the easiest part of this process. If your child's physiology is iron-based, you may not be able to carry to term. I haven't been able to collect that information. I'd like to run a few more tests possibly tomorrow."

"Of course," she said to herself with disbelief.

"I'd also like to start you on a regiment of vitamins. _If _your child does indeed have red blood, you'll probably need additional proteins … something replicating meat …."

T'Pol turned her head and covered her mouth; thinking about animal parts. For the first time, she felt sick to her stomach. Instead of running to the bathroom, she breathed through the spell. Her husband also felt the same surge, but felt overpowered by it. He sprinted to the bathroom.

As Phlox listened to his patient ralph, he suggested, "T'Pol, it may be a good idea to occasionally let that feeling overtake you. Humans are far less experienced with controlling emotions and … other bodily functions."

The two could hear Archer yak again.

"Perhaps you are correct. I am surprised the pregnancy has affected him so distinctly," she mused, allowing herself to become more nauseated.

Archer stopped barfing and breathed deeply. This was all so amazing. Everything. Koss, the baby, feeling her pregnancy – he knew he was more prone to emotion than normal, but really felt overjoyed. The baby! He was going to be a father!

The news was completely and utterly unexpected. He was 42 years old and was about to have a baby. Actually, he'd be 43 when his wife delivered from the sound of things – a year and three months. Somehow, it seemed a year was right around the corner.

Despite his condition, he grabbed his wife, startling her, and kissed her several times, sloppily. Under normal circumstances she would turn away – still able to smell his bile – but decided not to spoil the mood. Instead, she held her breath as he delivered each tiny embrace. He released her and dragged Dr. Phlox into a hug. He didn't even mind the doctor's ridges touching his face.

Phlox squirmed away, "Really!"

Archer tousled the doctor's hair. "Now, cut that out!" exclaimed Phlox, smoothing his hair back.

Archer sighed and let the feeling wash over him.

"I suppose you can be released," the doctor suggested to the beaming human.

For as awful as Jon felt, he simultaneously felt absolutely wonderful. He hopped out of bed with vigor, changed into his uniform and walked with his arm around his wife's shoulder. He beamed – his baby. T'Pol meanwhile was completely flushed and overwhelmed.

As the two entered their abode, T'Pol's mouth found his. As his hand wandered around her belly, he felt secure, safe, serene and warm.

Their child. His wife. The two wrapped their arms around each other and talked about the future, including agreeing not to tell their shipmates, Starfleet or nearly anyone else. Nearly anyone.

Chapter Fourteen 

T'Pol had lunch with Koss. She found it difficult to admit after all this turmoil he had caused, it was difficult to see him go, mainly because his visit was also connected to good news and the kindling of old friendships. She walked Koss to the airlock.

"Your parents, they are in good health?" she asked.

"Yes, I told them I was collecting your body on behalf of your family, after Pon Farr. They were … distressed on hearing the news that you would die, or had perished already."

She nodded. "That is good of them, particularly since I shamed you and them." She took a small breath. "You have never spoken of the fact I shamed you," she said.

"Shame is an emotion. Besides, why dwell on the past?" he asked. "I was … relieved … to see you alive. Although I felt something I did not expect when you seeing you with Archer."

"Jealousy. I have felt it myself. It is a darker and somewhat uncontrolled emotion."

"I do not like that emotion."

She remained silent. "Nor do I."

"You allow these human feelings to bombard you everyday, and in close proximity," he pointed out. "How do you do it?"

"I've grown accustomed to them and somewhat … enjoy the bombardment. It is only the darker emotions that … disturb me: fear, hatred …." She paused. "However, I feel those so rarely."

"Fascinating," he said. He let his eyes dance over her in silence. "I assume your family is aware of your marriage?"

"Yes," she said. "You might imagine their reaction."

Something in his eyes smiled. "I believe your cousin T'Ler would be … pleased."

She seemed amused, but her face was stoic. "Yes, she wrote to me immediately."

"And his family?" asked Koss.

"He has none. His parents are both deceased and he has no siblings. His extended family is fragmented."

"Ah, you have chosen a path of isolation," he remarked.

"Not entirely. I have recently discovered some … surprising news," she said.

"Do tell," he said as they neared the airlock.

"I am with child," she responded.

Shock forced his eyebrow up, but it was the only outward sign that something was wrong. "This news is surprising, but I am certain it is welcome. Well, then congratulations to you. You will be a good and decent mother."

She spoke softly, "I do not wish for others to know. There is a large chance I will not …."

"But, it seems you and he … what did he say, 'work well with small chances,'" said Koss.

She decided to change the subject. "Speaking of T'Ler, her bond mate perished recently as well."

Koss raised his eyebrow, "Farin?" He bowed his head. "I grieve for her."

T'Pol nodded, "I believe my family is looking for another match. An aesthetically appealing architect familiar with my family would be advantageous."

He raised both eyebrows, "Aesthetically appealing? Interesting that you would say so."

"I could speak with my family," suggested T'Pol.

"Perhaps. But, not now. I believe I need time to reflect."

He took a long breath and formed his hand into a "v," the sign of IDIC. "This is good bye, then. Live long and prosper T'Pol of Vulcan. And, please give Archer my regards."

"Peace and long life, Koss," she returned. She returned his gesture.

He entered the docking area, and turned back once more to look at T'Pol. Then he vanished.

Chapter Fifteen 

Archer awoke, dreaming of flying a model ship. He'd placed a reassuring arm around his child … his daughter … and explained about their grandfather and the warp program. Of course, she'd raised a wary eyebrow at him and had recited how illogical it was to reminisce. He didn't mind her little raised eyebrow; it was amusing.

The best part was – they weren't really dreams, it was reality. He would one day teach his child how to fly a model ship.

T'Pol gathered a few of Archer's thoughts and opened her eyes. "We don't know the sex of our baby, and he or she has not been born yet."

Archer grinned, fully opening his eyes. "I'm betting girl."

"I believe it's a boy," she said, giving him a taste of her humor.

"In a few weeks, we might be able to find out."

"It's unusual that I have not been as connected with our child as … you have," she whispered.

He stroked her cheek and cooed, "Does that upset you?"

Her mind was already forming the phrase about Vulcans and emotions when she said, "Perhaps."

Suddenly, a wave of nausea washed over her. She jumped up and ran unceremoniously to the bathroom. As she threw up, Archer himself felt a little queasy, but was able to hold it down. He snuggled against his pillow – ah the joys of pregnancy. As he heard his wife gag, he thought about her slightly swelling breasts and felt … frisky. It seemed both human and Vulcan pregnancies included increased sexual appetite. Apparently in another month or more that would change drastically; best to milk it for all it was worth … so to speak.

After T'Pol emptied her stomach, she brushed her teeth and came back to bed.

"Maybe you _are _feeling more connected," he mentioned, kissing her neck.

Still recovering from nausea, she warned, "Jonathan, please."

"Please what?" he whispered in her ear, biting softly on the point. "I wonder if our child will have pointed ears."

"You have work this morning," she announced.

"Yeah, well, my watch says we have two hours before our shift," he replied, remaining undeterred.

"Then perhaps you have enough time to retrieve breakfast for the two of us?" she asked.

"Three," he corrected, bending over to kiss her stomach. "All right. What can I get you?"

"Your smell is somewhat …." She jumped out of bed and ran into the bathroom again.

He followed her in and wet a washrag.

"Nausea is not a symptom of pregnancy," she said.

"It is for humans," he whispered, handing her a rag. He himself felt a little queasy again.

"Your smell," she warned.

He furrowed his eyebrows while smiling. "Well, maybe Phlox can give you a stronger nasal inhibitor."

She nodded, "Perhaps." She looked like she was going to be ill again, until he backed up and walked out of the bathroom.

He called to her. "I'll get one for you and some breakfast. I'll be right back." He frowned and weakly began walking out the door.

"Jonathan," she called out.

He stopped. "Yes?"

"I cherish thee." He heard before she emptied her stomach again.

'I love you, too,' he thought, amused.

"Jonathan?"

He stopped at the door. "Yes, dear?"

"For breakfast, I'd like fruit."

"I suppose you want tea, too?" he asked.

"Since you will be out. That is, if you don't mind."

"Okay," he said.

"Aisha?" called out T'Pol.

He slumped his head against his chest, "Yes?"

"Please take Porthos with you until I have the … stronger … nasal inhibitor," she said. "The smell is …," he heard her throw up again. He looked down at the ground. "Never get married, boy." With that, he quickly left hoping she wouldn't find something else for him to do.

Deep within him he felt gratified. He twirled the ring around his finger and said, "My family."


	6. SR6: Love's Labor Lost

**SR6: Love's Labor Lost **

**Part One**

Two months. It'd been two months since he'd heard the news he was going to be a father. _Father._ The word had a magical ring to it and always brought a smile to the man's lips. Perhaps it was because he treasured the relationship he had with his own dad. Maybe it was how much he relished the idea of teaching someone – boy or girl, he didn't care which – stuff like how to fly a remote control starship. He knew Porthos would lavish attention on his son or daughter. And he was thrilled to think of T'Pol as a mother. The woman was beautiful, intelligent, loving, wise and patient … attributes that any child would benefit from … traits that he benefited from as a spouse, friend and co-worker.

He'd spent a lot of time thinking about his wife in lots of different ways. It was amazing to know that this sexy creature would be someone's mom. The two had spent a lot of time in the past three months discussing their own parents and how both would want to raise their child. Archer had been surprised how easily they agreed that their child should learn _both_ human and Vulcan customs and cultures. He'd also been astounded at how easily they'd decided where their baby would live, how they would care for it and when they would tell the crew, Starfleet and any relatives. The sticking point had been the name.

Jon'd wanted to name his son – if it was a boy – Henry, for obvious reasons. T'Pol had seemed insistent on Sloven, which to the captain was a disaster. Humans would make fun of the name, especially since it sounded close to slovenly … despite it meaning "wonder" in Vulcan. The girl's name had been much easier; T'Pol had already picked out T'Larn and Archer picked out a middle name, which Vulcans didn't have – Miranda. He'd fallen in love with the name ever since reading _The Tempest_ as a boy.

Archer'd also spent time pondering, 'Will he or she have pointed ears? Will she or he embrace emotion? Will he or she live a long life? If it's a girl, will she have a slight coppery-green tone to her skin like her mother? Or, will he have a ruddy complexion like his pop? Pilot? Scientist? Interested in reading books and poetry? Shakespeare?'

T'Pol had typically caught his musings through the bond and provided an admonishing eyebrow – she never participated in flights of fancy. But, she'd sent him her warmth and care, which he'd lapped up like a dog. A grin had been her reward.

But, things hadn't been easy.

The parents had decided against telling anyone except Phlox, especially since the chances of her giving birth were supposedly rare … very rare. They also hadn't been sure how to tell Starfleet or Vulcan High Command. Sure they'd have to mention it, but possibly when the two had worked out exactly what they wanted to do and when things were a little more inevitable. Archer knew the Bridge crew had been suspicious. Hoshi even commented on T'Pol leaving for the bathroom so many times a day. Luckily as she became nauseated, so did he, making him sprint toward a door and saving him from having to answer questions. Claiming they had been sharing a stomach ailment seemed to alleviate everyone's concerns – unfortunately it'd been a long stomach ailment.

That was another thing that wasn't easy – Archer through the bond had been feeling what T'Pol did, including moodiness. He had almost since her third month.

T'Pol had been under constant bombardment of emotions ... even more than usual … though she never expressed it or showed them. She was stoic. Sure, _he'd _been able to see an occasional flitter of emotion pass over her, but it was brief – mostly because she was passing those feelings onto him. Thus when she experienced it, he had felt more extremely … the emotions were overpowering. The most difficult was anger. One day T'Pol had noticed her scanners were significantly out of alignment, as if the instrument had not been calibrated in some time, despite having asked Ensign Perez to do so weeks ago. Rather than calmly realign them, she'd glared up at her husband with irritation. Archer, sitting in the command chair, had stopped reading his PADD and had met her eyes, instantly overwhelmed with fury. By poor coincidence, Reed had managed to drop his own PADD.

Archer'd spun around, barking, "Do your damned job, Lieutenant!"

Reed's eyes had shot open, as his mouth had released a guffaw ... just as Archer's anger fizzled. He'd placed his hands over his eyes and apologized to Malcolm. "Sorry. Lack of sleep." He'd walked over to the young man and clapped him on the back.

"Sorry, Malcolm. I don't know where that came from."

A confused Reed had accepted the apology, looking down at his station.

_'I'm sorry, Jonathan.'_

The worst had been the last movie night: he'd ended up hiding his face under a lame hand as he'd tried to nonchalantly wipe the tears from his eyes and clear his throat, enabling air and saliva to pass. Tearing-up during _Steel Magnolias _– Hoshi's pick – was the epitome of humiliation. He'd been even more mortified to hear as Mayweather passed, "Sir, there are some tissues in the back."

_'I'm sorry, Jonathan,' _T'Pol had thought, letting her fingers stroke his wet cheek.

Archer'd gotten used to the routine. He'd wake up hearing his wife spilling her guts in the bathroom, mostly because he would feel sick himself. She'd come back to bed, make another trip, and then he'd get up and take a shower. Just before they headed for breakfast, she'd throw up again … and sometimes he'd loose his breakfast, too. During their morning meal, she'd have to leave. They'd go to work and she'd put in an hour before making an escape. By the time lunch rolled around she was famished. After lunch she'd need to leave almost hourly. She'd get home, tired. They'd eat dinner, where she was famished and then she'd go to sleep early, usually while she was reading.

Archer noticed he'd already gained 3 kilograms eating with her, despite the fact he'd been purging his stomach almost as often. He tried to increase his exercise, but also felt exhausted by the end of the day.

Dr. Phlox had been concerned about the bouts of _her _nausea, but not overly concerned. He said if it continued into the sixth month, he'd be worried. However, the doctor had not been anxious about Archer's symptoms; in fact, he'd been the opposite – bemused. Everyone had determined although this pregnancy was rare and possibly dangerous, everything seemed fairly normal.

And, best of all -- the side effects of pregnancy had allowed the man to see his wife with a green glow to her skin and a smile in her weary eyes. He'd noticed her breasts had swelled by the tiniest fraction, although they were slightly darker than before, and her stomach had become only slightly larger. Though she'd been tired and nauseous, not only had her appetite increased for food, she was more voracious in … other matters. Archer had especially liked that part; he'd enjoyed it a lot. While eating lunch, sometimes the two would sneak away to their quarters to satisfy her craving.

In general, they'd been together nearly all the time – almost like the two couldn't get enough of each other. Archer'd typically showered first, and then would sneak into bed after doing so and awake his barely sleeping spouse with a few kisses. They'd spent nearly all day on the Bridge together. There'd been the aforementioned lunch rendezvous. And after dinner, they'd go home and read together. He'd attempt to figure out the nuances of Vulcan pregnancy, and she'd catch up on human pregnancy -- trying to determine what to expect. As she'd fall asleep reading, he'd hold her, whispering in her ear and stroking her hair until he was ready to fall asleep himself … which was usually not long afterward.

This particular night, T'Pol complained of more exhaustion than normal. She'd ended meditation early, snuggled under the covers with Jonathan, made love and fallen asleep, wrapping their arms around each other. Archer awoke to a wave of nausea, which came to a rapid halt, and a sharp pain shooting up his spine.

'Arthritis,' he noted to himself, urging his body back to sleep.

With his eyes barely taking in the darkness of the room, he peered at the clock and grumbled -- it was too early for their routine to start. He rolled onto his side and let his arm fall onto her side of the bed. Empty and … wet? As his arm hit the sheets, he noticed it felt cool and felt a trickle running down his arm. Startled, he punched the lights and stared at the green goo covering his hand and their bed.

It was T'Pol's blood … and there was a lot of it.

His foggy mind bolted into action. As if unable to comprehend, he kicked off the sheets to determine how much blood there was. The answer scared the hell out of him; the sheets were drenched in it. Panic-stricken, he shot out of bed.

"T'Pol?" he called out, frantically, wheeling around, trying to find his wife.

He heard muffled crying in the bathroom. He placed his hand nervously on the door, calling out to her mind.

_'T'Pol?' he asked._

_'No!' her mind screamed back at him._

"T'Pol?" he asked aloud, his voice quivering with fear.

"Do not open the door," she called out hoarsely from the other side.

"What's happening?" he asked, touching the door. His brain barely registered that his very Vulcan wife was crying.

"Do not come in," she said aloud. _'Do not come in,' she repeated in his mind._

_'No,' he thought, overriding the locking mechanism._

_'Do not come in!' _

_'I have to,' he feebly replied._

As the door slid open, he saw a trail of green blood on the bathroom tiles, leading up to a woman, his wife, slumped against the wall with her head buried in her hands.

He rushed over to her, "Sweetheart? Are you okay?"

Her only reply was to sob into her hands and keep them there to prevent from seeing her husband, and more importantly to keep from being seen.

He squatted down, stroked her hair and said, hoarsely, "I think we should call Dr. Phlox."

Unmoving, she continued to weep. Her shoulders shook with a fury he didn't think possible. Through their bond, he felt she was trying to regain her emotions, but felt them spilling out as if she was unable to stop them.

He let his voice break, "It's okay." He sat next to her and took her unwillingly in his arms, placing her into his lap and rocked her back and forth in his arms, hugging her helplessly to him. He put her head into the crook of his neck and let tears stream down his cheek, drifting onto her head.

After a few minutes, Archer managed to remove her hands from her face. Her eyes were hazel in the center and green around it, as if she'd broken a few blood vessels crying.

He whispered, "I'd like to call Dr. Phlox."

She shook her head - no.

His voice cracked as he croaked out, "I'm concerned about _you _right now. We can … we can …." He fought unsuccessfully to keep back another tear and looked at her. "I'd just like to know you're okay."

Archer could tell she found her outpouring of emotion embarrassing. She was afraid to let her husband see her like this – so bare. To allow their doctor to see this would be degrading.

She said in a whisper, "I cannot control my emotions."

He kissed her forehead, rocking her into him. "It's okay."

"It's not …." She cleared her throat. She said, "The cycle of life is logical. I knew the risks and probability of…." She found herself unable to finish the sentence as another crying fit shook loose.

Taking a deep breath, he attempted to control his emotions; he knew she needed to use his strength to regain her composure.

"I need you to let me call Dr. Phlox," he said softly, but urgently.

"No."

He set her back onto the tiled floor and walked over to the comm. He decided not to look back; he knew his wife was in utter despair, her mind begging him to leave her alone. Seeing her might convince him to continue to hold her, rather than seek the medical attention he was positive she needed.

He tapped his finger against the comm button. "Archer to Dr. Phlox."

"Phlox here," said the doctor, merrily. The man always seemed to be up and chipper.

"I'd … I'd like you to come to my quarters."

Phlox called back, "Everything okay?"

"No…." He couldn't manage to get anything else out.

"On my way," the Denobulan replied more seriously.

Archer looked back at T'Pol who had buried her head in her hands again. He drifted over and put his hand to her temple. She was in pain, and not just emotional turmoil. Trying to determine how badly she felt and how dire the situation was, his thoughts focused in on hers.

"Show me," he asked aloud.

_As he fell into her mind, he saw himself in the middle of the ocean as a storm was rolling in. He couldn't see the shoreline; his arms and legs were extremely fatigued. Ducking under another wave, he was drenched with emotions … mainly sadness. He scanned the immediate vicinity trying to find his wife, and although he couldn't see her, he knew she was drowning. Another surge of water toppled over him, forcing him underwater. He struggled to break the surface, spitting up liquid._

_"T'Pol!" he yelled, as rain and spray pelted him in the face._

_A swell forced him under. Submerged again he paddled hard to free his head and gulp air. Regaining some of his strength, his arms and legs kicked, fighting the tide until he finally spotted her. She was drifting, listlessly – her body limp and lifeless. Archer used all his muscles and years of experience swimming to meet her … when water pummeled her, dragging her form under the toe. He panicked and thrashed his arms and legs against the sea with lightning speed. He dove underwater to reach her, but had trouble seeing – the ocean was full of silt and stung his eyes. He flung his arms out hoping to catch her, but instead caught only water. He breached the surface, lungs dying for air, and shouted, "T'Pol!"_

_Again he thrashed about, swimming one way and then another … and then finally, he saw her head bobbing along keeping time to the current. As he reached out to grab her, he felt not just loss, but significant pain. The sharpness of it made him want to recoil, but he held on, keeping her afloat. His arms and hands grasped her as if they could never let go and her eyes flashed open._

Blinding pain knocked the wind out of him.

He woozily glanced around the room and noticed he was back in the bathroom. Archer recognized the severity of hurt he took with him from their mind meld, wincing at the force in which it overcame him. Some of it was emotional, but the majority of it crawled around his belly making it difficult for him to breathe – his organs, he wasn't sure which, were on fire.

Just as Archer came to his senses, the doorbell chimed. He struggled to stand and get to the door.

As soon it opened, Phlox sensed what had happened. He jogged to the bathroom and crouched down, looking over the couple. T'Pol was covered in blood and Archer had streaks of it smeared on him. Both looked tired – both mentally and physically; T'Pol's eyes were bloodshot and she looked pale.

Archer could tell his wife was forcing her emotions down, embarrassed to let the doctor see them, even now.

_'It's okay,' thought Archer with reassurance. _

"It appears I had a miscarriage," she weakly explained.

Phlox whispered, "Are you in any pain?"

"No," she said.

Archer contradicted, "She's in a lot of pain."

The doctor waved a scanner in front of her and shot a worried glance at Jon. T'Pol stiffened her spine at the accusation, but allowed the statement to go uncorrected.

Phlox said, "I'd like to take you to Sickbay."

"I'd like to change first." She put a hand on either side of her slender form and tried to push herself up, with no success. Archer stood weakly beside her.

Phlox whispered, "T'Pol, I don't want to frighten you, but you've lost a lot of blood. I believe you've gone into shock. It's imperative we get you to the medical facility … quickly."

Without another thought, Archer gathered her in his arms.

T'Pol was devastated; undoubtedly people would see her and gossip. Jon was scared shitless at the look on Phlox's face – he looked as if T'Pol was in dire straits; the throbbing he felt in her mind was an indication of the severity of her pain. As he collected her into his arms, Phlox threw a blanket over her to keep her warm and hide some of the embarrassment – alpha shift began soon and some people went to the gym around this hour.

She curled into her husband, buried her face in his neck and fought to keep her emotions at bay. Occasionally, he could feel a few of her tears collect on his shirt as he thought, _'It's okay.'_

'It's okay,' seemed to be his mantra. He chanted it in his mind as he walked briskly through the corridors. It's okay. His mind chewed on it for himself, as much as for her.

Phlox waddled to the nearest bio-bed as Jon laid her down gently. He realized with horror, he had green blood on his hands, forearms, chest and stomach. T'Pol's eyes slipped shut as he felt her mind grow quiet.

_'T'Pol?' he asked. _

"Doc!" called out Archer with alarm as the bio-bed control panel lit up and grew chaotic.

The doctor grabbed equipment, threw on his gray surgical suit and began to prep. Without further instruction, the physician flung the curtain between him and Archer closed.

_'It's okay.' _

Jon peered through the thin veil with frustration. After an hour of pacing and trying to see what was going on, Phlox emerged.

"She'll be fine, but I'd like her to rest here, where I can keep an eye on her."

Archer breathed a sigh of relief. He stepped through the curtain and saw her eyes were snapped shut and she looked drawn. Concern marred Jon's eyes as the doctor explained her condition.

"Her body rejected the …. And some of the lining of her uterus has been shed in the process, which is not typical for a Vulcan. She's also had some internal bleeding in the process. I'd like to do some follow-up work to see the nature of her …."

Phlox's voice melted away as Jon fixated on his mate's breathing – even, shallow breaths.

The doctor noted Archer's worry. "She's meditating to heal. Don't worry, she'll probably wake up in a few hours."

Archer's head barely nodded.

Phlox tried to capture the man's attention to deliver the bad news. "I'd like to run a few more tests about the viability of her womb in the future."

"I don't understand," Jon said.

"I'm not sure if she'll ever be able to have children. Vulcans don't shed their uterus lining on a regular basis like humans do. Once it's shed, it … I'd like to run more tests, but I'm not sure she'll ever be able to have children."

Archer blinked through the comments, letting tears come to his eyes, but not spill down his cheeks. The words themselves hovered and floated over him without his understanding or acknowledgment.

The doctor saw a few questions forming in the man's mind, so decided to reiterate it didn't just look bad, it looked hopeless. The tests he needed to conduct were really just to verify that prognosis.

"I'm sorry," Phlox whispered.

"I'd like to stay with her."

"All right." The doctor headed off to the other end of the room, giving them some privacy.

_Duty. _Wearily Archer crossed over to the comm. "Archer to Commander Tucker."

"Tucker here, sir," responded a groggy voice. It was only 0433.

"T'Pol and I are going to need a couple of days off …."

"Huh?" asked the engineer, trying to make sense of the words coming on the other end of the comm.

Archer couldn't prevent his voice from breaking. "Personal reasons," said the captain, letting his fingers slip away without formally ending the transmission.

He pulled up a chair and sat beside his sleeping wife. After realizing the exigency of the moment was gone and he could feel whatever he needed to, he picked up T'Pol's hand. His lips pressed against her knuckles and he wept.

_It's not okay. _


	7. SR6: Love's Labor Lost, part 2

**SR6: Love's Labor Lost - 2 **

T'Pol's eyes opened slowly, forcing herself from her healing trance so as not to require the doctor to slap her into consciousness. She glanced over at her husband. His cheek rested against her hand, which was draped onto the bed. A tiny snore rumbled in his nose and passed through his lips. She'd heard nearly everything in her sleep, including his sobs of agony, but was unable to shake herself from her coma-like rest. Perhaps he felt better now that he was able to release his emotion. In many ways, T'Pol's emotional outbursts weighed on her, rather than liberated her. It wasn't time.

Void. Only recently could she _feel_ a child in her womb. His feet, she was certain it was a boy, never pressed up against her stomach or kicked at it – the child wasn't that developed, but she could _sense _it. It was in the parents' bond like a breeze … faint, but there, and even her husband picked up on the change in their union and the tingle of something different between them.

That breeze was gone.

_When she awakened, a sharp pain shot through her back and grabbed at her belly, forcing the breath out of her and doubling her over. And the nausea … worse than previous mornings … caused her to nearly sink to the ground. _

_Dismissing it, she lumbered to the bathroom, careful not to wake her husband as she did most mornings, and wretched. It was odd that the pain was still there, worse than the occasional back spasms and light cramping of her pregnant stomach … much worse. Glancing over toward the darkened room, she spied tiny droplets of green blood along the tiles of the bathroom floor … sending panic into her mind. Reaching into her bond, she searched for that soft wind – her son. With realization, she fell helplessly to the floor and buried her face into her hands to weep. _

_'That breeze is gone,' she thought. _

_Jonathan stirred from his slumber. _

T'Pol had lost much. In her mind's eye she'd already imagined the boy – light brown hair and pensive green eyes; her son would have an infectious smile … there was no doubt about that. She'd imagined him to be curious and eager, interested in space and reading and sporting his father's cowlicks; she'd also pictured he'd have great physical strength, agility, grace and mental discipline. In other words: the boy would be the perfect combination of their union.

_Would've been._

Hearing Jonathan's broken voice and watching tears stream down his face only wounded her further, as if she were unable to fulfill a role most women easily do. More devastating, T'Pol, like most Vulcans, saw motherhood as a privilege and an honor … it gave her sex a slight advantage over males. It enabled women to rise to power during the more matriarchal points of their history.

In addition, even with all the minor trials of pregnancy she'd enjoyed the feeling of something growing inside of her; it deepened the bond with her husband and infinitely expanded their love. When she walked into a room, even with a slightly swollen stomach, she could tell he adored her – all of her. Everything -- conversations, thoughts and actions -- slipped from his mind … replaced by love, desire and admiration. His arms ached to wrap themselves around her and his mind yearned to plumb the depths of hers. Filled with awe, she felt the same way. Her lips longed to kiss his and she greedily teased him at lunch to join her thoughts in bed.

It was more than just the prestige and emotions shared between her and her husband. Children, no matter the species, were a blessing. Because Pon Farr occurred only every seven years and marriages were arranged, new life was rare. Vulcans saw the entire life cycle as a logical process, setting up rules whereby the madness of Pon Farr would be less embarrassing – part of why spouses were pre-selected. Once life arrived -- reaching the hot, arid planet -- it was treasured and respected. Vulcans kissed their babies and stroked the heads of their toddlers with the same amount of love that humans did.

T'Pol wanted a family with Jonathan. She wished to feel a child suckle at her breast, gurgling against her, and stare into the twinkling eyes of her husband. In fact, even though she chided Jonathan for his flights of fancy, she'd already imagined her husband caring for their son as he grew older – bathing him, tucking him into his bed, reading a story and then sauntering over to her where they'd attempt to make another child as remarkable as the first. A child created without the aid of Pon Farr, a husband who stirred emotions in her and the miraculous birth human/Vulcan hybrid – it would've been perfect.

_Would've been. _

It was sad, but she could rationalize that nature had a reason for not allowing children to live. Perhaps he'd developed a fatal defect that would've shortened his life anyway. All of the scans indicated her son would be the epitome of health. No, she was certain that her copper-based womb couldn't sustain an iron-based fetus – despite his pensive green eyes and infectious smile.

The fault was hers. Her body expelled the child from it.

At these thoughts, Archer stirred. Their eyes locked as each studied the other for a moment, wondering what to say, think or do. Then, he leaned his forehead into hers and the two absorbed each other's thoughts and feelings. Before she could sense it, he buried the information Phlox had shared with him earlier – whether she would ever be able to give birth or conceive. When the doctor confirmed it, then they could discuss it. But, he knew she couldn't deal with the news right now, and frankly, neither could he.

_'How do you feel?' he asked. _

_Her eyes filled with tears as she responded. 'Better. Jonathan, I'm sorry.' _

_'Sorry? Why? It's not your fault; there's nothing you could've done.' He dragged her into a hug, trying to envelop her with love. 'I'm glad you're okay. I don't know what I would've done if something happened to you.' _

_'I know you were looking forward to fatherhood.' _

_'You were looking forward to this just as much as I was,' he said stroking her cheek. 'You still look pale. Are you sure you're all right?' _

_'Yes,' she confirmed. _

He released her from his hold and petted her hair.

Attempting to control her emotions, she turned away. She took a deep breath and held it, slowly passing it through her nostrils. Losing children was not unheard of on Vulcan – it happened, though rarely. Once it did, the parents were encouraged to think about the cycle of life logically. T'Pol was more emotional than other Vulcans, making this task more difficult. Her mind tried to fix on the cycle of life – birth and death. Besides, there would be the ceremony; they would have an appropriate time to express emotions.

_'Death is inevitable,' she chanted within her brain … out of her husband's grasp._

For the time being, there was nothing to do, except move on. Reaching deep within her Vulcan psyche and training, she worked to suppress her emotions. It'd be best for both of them if she accepted it and they moved on together.

_'I grieve with thee. But, this event is behind us,' she whispered in his mind with finality. She strengthened her reserves and barriers, shielding him from her thoughts and emotions. _

"Huh?" he asked, feeling the closeness they'd enjoyed over the past five months begin to slip away.

_'Did you have someone clean up the blood in our quarters?'_

Stumbling over the words, his mind tried to determine a response to, "It was time to move on." Numbness had already spread through his body as he wondered how he'd get through it. No one else on the ship knew, except Phlox. And, although the physician was a friend of his, he only wanted to talk about this with her – his wife and best friend.

In a selfish way, he was hoping he and his wife could lean on each other for support. He'd be the protective husband, shooing away errant tears, kissing her temple and giving her support. He envisioned she'd be the loving wife, whispering through the night silence of their darkened bedroom that everything would be okay, which would force a few tears to sting his cheeks. In a selfish way, he was hoping this would bring them closer together now that they had to face this.

_Supportive – he reminded himself – he needed to be supportive. _

"No, not yet," he mumbled.

"Don't you think you should do so immediately?" she asked.

"I don't know," he whispered.

_'There is a Vulcan ceremony … we can commit his memory to our bond, if you would like. Although he did not have a katra, it would … respect his memory.' _

_'I'd like that,' he thought with a sad smile. _

_'And the human custom?' she asked, touching his face. _

_'I don't know. I've never had to deal with something like this before,' he explained, nuzzling his cheek into her hand. _

"Perhaps we should look into it."

"Okay."

"Do you know when I may leave?" she asked, letting her hand fall to her side.

"I don't know. I didn't ask Phlox that yet. I just wanted to be with you."

"When he returns perhaps you can ask him. Would you mind?"

"No," he said, stroking her cheek.

"You don't need to stay here with me, Jonathan. I know the astrometric reports are ready. Undoubtedly Crewman Frasley would like to discuss them with you."

"Huh?"

"There is nothing you can do by being here. It seems a waste of your time."

Anger bubbled up in his stomach, which he squashed immediately. _Supportive._ "The most important thing to me right now is you, T'Pol."

"Why would you want to stay with me?" she asked.

"You're my wife. I love you."

"I cherish thee as well. But, currently, there's nothing you can do."

"We've just lost our child," he thought, as if he needed to remind her.

"Yes, we did."

"I need some time to process things. It's very human to be devastated by an event like this. And that's what I feel. I feel devastated … I feel scared, hurt, angry, upset …."

"Perhaps you would prefer to feel these emotions elsewhere. When our room has been cleaned, it might be beneficial …."

"Do you _want_ me to leave?" he asked.

"I would like to meditate on my thoughts before I share them with you."

Archer was distraught. In the past year, he never would've called his wife cold or unfeeling, but now she seemed almost infuriatingly so. He told himself she'd just lost a baby, their child, and that undoubtedly she needed to go through whatever Vulcans go through. He wished she felt like talking about it, although he wasn't sure what he'd say. What could he or would he say?

Feel … all he could do was feel … and the emotion that hung over him was something akin to being destroyed. He wanted so badly just to hold his wife and crawl around inside her head; he wanted to share her pain and emotions. For as thoroughly demoralized as he felt, he knew she was more so, even if she didn't show it.

_Supportive._ If she needed to be alone, so be it. They'd have plenty of chances to talk about it. And in all honesty, he wanted to clean his quarters rather than let the sanitation crew do so, even if the idea sickened and saddened him.

"All right," he whispered. Before he turned away, he boyishly asked, "Would you mind if I had lunch with you? I could bring you some soup?"

"Of course," she responded.

A weak smile formed on his lips. "Okay."

Archer unwittingly left her side and looked around for the physician. Phlox was in the laboratory trying to let the two have some time alone. When the captain stepped around the corner, the doctor let a large frown gather on his face.

Phlox said, "This is the hardest part of being a doctor. I can't empathize. I've never lost a child…."

Archer's forehead riddled with furrows and he looked away.

The captain mumbled, "When can T'Pol leave?"

"Tomorrow at the earliest," he responded.

"Thanks, Doc." He sheepishly glanced at the man, afraid more emotions would be unearthed and walked back to his wife.

Jon tucked a lock of hair behind her pointed ear. "Sounds like you might be able to leave tomorrow. I'll see you at lunch. Let me know if you need anything. Okay?"

"I'll be fine," she whispered, encouraging him to leave.

Archer walked out of Sickbay and wandered the halls back to his room. He'd forgotten his shirt and arms were stained with dried green blood, until he noticed a few crewmembers' concern. Rather than explain it or address them, he ignored them. As he neared his room, Trip passed by and stopped immediately. He noticed his friend was disheveled, exhausted, and covered in what he rightly assumed was T'Pol's blood.

"You alright?" asked Trip. "Is T'Pol alright?"

Archer weakly nodded his head and turned to his door.

"What's going on?" he asked.

Archer stared darkly at the commander. "It's personal."

It didn't take a rocket scientist … well … it didn't take much to understand what was going on. Even if he didn't know the rumors about her tossing cookies, he had plenty of other evidence. There was also something about Jon that reminded him lately of his own dad – protective. There was one instance when they'd been near a nebula and received some turbulence. Trip was on the Bridge for the event, taking readings and monitoring some data, when the ship buckled and T'Pol was knocked out of her chair to the ground. Under normal circumstances, the captain would've glanced at her, asked if she was okay and then requested status report on hull plating and engines. Instead, he sprinted to her side, helped her up and contacted Sickbay before asking Reed for about the ship's status. Now, _that_ was unusual. There was also that time when she'd come to check on the engines and had a fainting spell. When Trip carried her into the infirmary, he was surprised Archer was jogging behind him with more than the normal amount of worry. The guy seemed distraught until Dr. Phlox cryptically noted, "Everything seems to be okay." His wife hadn't awakened, so Trip had wondered what was '_okay_.'

Seeing his friend now only solidified that she was pregnant, although maybe not anymore. The corners of Tucker's mouth turned down.

"You know, Jon, when you feel like talking about it, I got some 20-year old bourbon back in my cabin waiting to be drunk."

Trip was always kind, just one of the many reasons the man was his friend. But, Archer couldn't speak through the lump in his throat; so instead, he gave a slight nod and entered his cabin, trying to mentally prepare himself for what he'd find. The door opened and slid behind him as he surveyed the damage. Green liquid sprinkled the floor. Padding his feet over to the bed, he noticed green blood covered their sheets and was smeared against the light switch he jabbed that morning. Heading to the bathroom, he noticed droplets of blood leading to the commode where it pooled – it was the place where she'd cowered away from him … the location where she'd cried so hard it broke blood vessels in her eyes.

_'Maybe if all traces of the ordeal are gone, we can forget the event,' he thought. 'Not our child, the event.' It was an important distinction._

Cleaning was easy. He tossed the sheets in the waste chute for incineration, scrubbed the tiles in the bathroom, wiped away the stain on the light switch and mopped up the small puddles on the carpet. Afterward, he stripped himself, threw his clothes into the waste chute and started a shower. As he was about to step in, he glanced at the mirror and was shocked at his own reflection – green splatters streaked across his chest, stomach, face and arms. His own eyes were bloodshot and surrounded by dark purple bags. Unshaven, stubble was breaking through the skin on his face and his hair was standing nearly on end.

Ignoring the visage, he forced himself under the nozzle of the spray and rinsed off. It took a moment before the sensation of burning reached his skin – the water was too warm and had already caused his forearm to turn a light shade of pink. Feebly, he fumbled with the controls and noticed his coloring return to normal. Leaning his head against the wall, he let the water tumble over him, and watched her dark green blood wash over him as it swirled down the drain.

His eyes closed and he stood there for much longer than he actually needed to. The pelting of the water felt good … feeling felt good, at least experiencing something other than turmoil and decay. Wanting to sleep, his mind focused on Phlox's words.

T'Pol would never be able to give birth.

His hand reached around the valves to shut them off. Snapping a towel from the rack he dried himself, shaved – for the first time without nicking himself, brushed his teeth and changed into his civvies for lunch.

When he walked in, T'Pol was reading a PADD that contained data on human ceremonies for unborn infants. He removed the duffle bag from his shoulder and set it in a chair next to the bio-bed. He'd packed a few things he thought she would need or could use – including a change of clothes and a few personal items.

"I asked one of the crewmen to deliver lunch for us. I hope that's okay," he said.

"Of course."

He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "What'd ya do this morning?" he asked.

"Reviewed human customs for a situation like ours. It appears we have many options, although in Western Civilization…."

"I don't really want to talk about that right now," he said, interrupting her.

"But…," she began.

Archer cut her off again, changing the subject. "Did you meditate this morning?"

"Yes," she said.

"Good. Listen, I did what you asked," he said, trying to be as delicate as possible.

"Clean up the room?" she asked, as his head nodded. "Thank you. I imagine it would be difficult to thoroughly remove all the blood from our sheets," she added, clinically.

He stared at her, puzzled at her comments. "I threw them out."

She raised her eyebrow, "Excellent idea, if not inefficient. I'm sorry for the damage I caused."

"You don't have anything to be sorry about," he said. His fingers brushed the side of her face as she averted her eyes.

"I've kept you from your duty as well as other endeavors."

He furrowed his brow. "T'Pol, let's get one thing straight."

Switching to their bond to give them more privacy, he continued. 'I can't … I can't not be with you. I care about you … and about us. And, I know you thought about being a mother. I know you were looking forward to it – I saw it in your mind.'

"What good does it do to reminisce about this?"

Wearily, he stroked her hair. Unsure what to say or do, he monitored her every facial twitch and reflex with calculated detail. After a few moments, she raised her eyebrow.

"You're staring at me."

_He sighed deeply, 'I'm trying to figure out how you feel.'_

_'When we commit the child to our bond, you'll know.'_

The food was delivered as the two ate mostly in silence, lost in their own thoughts. Dinner was the same if not more awkward. They exchanged pleasantries and made small talk, but they were going through the motions.

After spending the majority of the day with her, Archer trudged home – off to sleep alone. _Alone. _That seemed to sum up how he felt. He went through his daily rituals – brushed his teeth, washed his face and changed into his pajama bottoms.

As he ducked under the covers, it hit him: how alone he really felt. But the loneliness wasn't from his missing child; that was barely noticeable to him as if occasionally someone would barely tickle his skin. The emptiness wasn't his half-full bed – it was his wife. He typically had unrestrained access to her thoughts and emotions; now, a curtain drew closed between them until he could barely sense her feelings at all – any of them. All day he'd felt a void and poked at his bond with his wife, hoping to elicit a response. Instead, little by little, she went from disregarding his thoughts to withdrawing from him. Why had it taken so long … all day … for him to figure this out? Maybe he hadn't had a chance to really examine the problem until now. Maybe he was more concerned about his own feelings. Maybe he was too exhausted to notice anything was really happening at all.

With that thought ringing through his brain, he shut his eyes and fell asleep.

_'I'll talk with T'Pol tomorrow,' he promised himself._

During the day, T'Pol had contained her feelings – it was obvious her husband was having trouble dealing with his own emotions; he didn't need something or someone else derailing them. Besides, it was customary to let grief topple over a couple during the Mai Toi Fa'Kan – the ritual where they would commit the child to their memory. And during that sacred rite, the Kumi -- the awakening -- would take control of her.

Emotional fervors rarely hit Vulcans – the race experienced them only when prophetic joy or catastrophic loss pummeled their reserves and there was a word for the cathartic, chaotic and terrifying release of emotions: kumi. Sometimes the Vulcan experiencing this awakening shook during their outburst, crushed solid metal objects with their bare hands or screamed, shattering glass and watching shards explode. It was more powerful than the Pon Farr, maddening the mind, but was for a brief moment in time. After participants let loose their emotional fury, they often times crumpled to the ground – their minds cleansed.

Undoubtedly the Mai Toi Fa'Kan, would force out that awareness – she'd probably scream and wail. It was important to prepare herself for that possibility and determine how to reign in some of those emotions. Because Jonathan was human, he might not be able to understand or withstand such a psychic blast. He would feel overwhelmed and frightened and could cave under the force of what she launched against him, especially while attempting to handle his own pain.

Indeed the ceremony was nearly her only thought, pushing her to get through the day and causing her to become distracted from nearly everything else. The awakening would solve all their problems and enable her to eventually suppress her emotions tidily again.

It was curious that Jonathan tested the bond to ensure it was still there. Rather than bombard him with information about the Vulcan ritual, she decided to let him feel baffled as to why she didn't acknowledge his mental presence. They would have time to discuss everything tomorrow, where she'd walk him through the importance and the nuances of this most sacred and ancient of Vulcan rites. She'd assign him a few mental gymnastics to accept the emotional intensity more easily.

It was difficult to distance her emotions from him, she'd wanted to reach out, but knew it wouldn't do either of them any good. It was best to focus on the future. It was really best for him, even if he didn't understand it.


End file.
